The Eye of the Gazer
by servalan-ch
Summary: Sequel to The Female of the Species. Bryony starts private tuition at home, and Lucius takes far more interest in her governess than even the fondest father... COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The Eye Of The Gazer**

_Most true is it that "beauty is in the eye of the gazer." – Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre

**Introduction & Disclaimer**

This story is by way of a sequel to the story that began in _Cho's Chic_, and was continued in _The Female of the Species_. I had an idea which required Lucius to have a young child, and as I had already created his daughter Bryony in _Female,_ I decided to continue the saga. At the end of _Female_, I invited the reader to come to his/her own conclusion regarding the future relationship between Cho Chang and Lucius Malfoy. By writing this, I have decided on their fate. If this does not accord with your version of events, please regard it as occurring in a parallel universe to yours!

I have borrowed heavily from a work out of copyright for parts of this story. It will be immediately obvious to most people which book this is, and on whom my new original character is based. However, I will not name it here, because this may retain an extra degree of suspense for some readers. It will be acknowledged fully at the end of the story. The result of this borrowing is that occasionally Lucius' speech patterns imitate a nineteenth century novel. This is deliberate, as it seemed to fit with the feel of the story.

All Harry Potter characters are the property of JK Rowling, with influences from the Warner Brothers films, especially Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy. My Cho Chang was written before _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ was cast, but I am happy to see that Katie Leung looks just right, although my Cho is not a schoolgirl but a woman.

This story was written after the publication of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. Events in this sixth book have been taken into account where they do not contradict events previously written about in _Cho's Chic_ and _The Female of the Species_, which were both written before Book 6 was published.

In the main body of the story Cho is 29, Lucius is 53 and Bryony is 6. The narrative also contains flashbacks to earlier times.

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 1**

It was two o'clock on a midsummer's afternoon. The weather was unseasonably chilly, with a stiff breeze causing the clouds to scud across the sky, so that one moment the sun shone brightly, and the next it was grey and forbidding, heralding the next shower of rain. The old, imposing, square stone house stood as it had for years in its green park, its every feature exuding Englishness.

Before the grand entrance the figure of a man suddenly appeared, as if blown in by the wind, his black cloak swirling around with each gust. An onlooker, had there been one, would have noted that although at first glance his clothing accorded with the age of the house, there was an indefinable air of otherness about him. Upon closer inspection, it could be seen that the clothes were from no identifiable period of English history, but of a style particular to the wearer. Under the cloak he wore a rich bronze and black brocade waistcoat over a high-necked bronze shirt, black breeches and black boots. The only visible flesh was his face, for his hands were encased in soft black leather gloves, in which he carried a long black cane adorned with the head of a silver cobra. But the most striking thing about the man was his long, pale hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, from which a silver-white pony tail spilled down his back, blown about by the wind so that tendrils whipped around his shoulders.

The man climbed the few wide steps to the front door with long, confident strides. With one gloved hand, he pulled the cord beside it, and through the thick wood, he heard a bell ringing in response. It was not long before the door began to open from inside. The man looked downwards, and as he expected, a house elf stood in the doorway, wearing a cut-down linen tablecloth, which in the man's opinion was far too good a piece of material for a mere bonded servant.

"Oh, Mr Malfoy!" said the elf in a shaky voice, his eyes wide, and an obsequious smile on his face. He stood aside just in time as Malfoy brushed past him, not deigning to speak to his inferior. He stood in the spacious hall under the glass cupola, hesitating, then he turned to the elf.

"I believe my daughter will have just finished her studies for the day? I am right that her lessons end at two o'clock, am I not?" The elf agreed that it was so.

"Then take me to her." For Malfoy, this was politeness to a house elf. He never said "please" to an elf, but had this been his own servant, he would likely have added a few words of abuse as well; but in this house he curbed his instincts, for he knew that things were done differently here.

The elf led the way upstairs, and along the landing. Eventually, he indicated a door, and told the guest that this was now used as his daughter's schoolroom. Malfoy nodded curtly at the servant, who bowed, and scurried swiftly away without a backward glance.

Lucius Malfoy opened the door, and stepped inside. Then, as he entered, his grey eyes hardened like flint, and his sensuous lips curled into a sneer. For although his small daughter turned her dark head towards the door and uttered a squeal of delight when she saw him, her father only had eyes for her companion. For a moment he stared unblinkingly at the young woman in stony silence, and she, although initially startled, gazed back at him equally steadily from defiant hazel eyes in her flushed face.

"Miss Granger!" said Malfoy finally. "Well, this is an unexpected meeting."

"Mr Malfoy," she replied briefly. Her jaw set determinedly as she watched him take in the colourful picture books, quills and parchments spread over the large table at which the two females were sitting, his daughter's height boosted by a plump Chinese cushion between her and her chair.

Malfoy's eyes then travelled slowly over the woman from head to toe, and he noted with grudging admiration that she did not flinch or turn away under his scrutiny.

Deliberately, tauntingly, Lucius looked at Miss Granger, and allowed his gaze to linger on her behind, projecting slightly backwards in the gap between the chair's back and seat. He could see she was getting uncomfortable, twisted around as she was, and he took his time, revelling in her discomfort: for he knew it was taking an effort of will on her part to hold her head so that she could look him in the eye. The tension in the air was electric.

But the third person in the room became impatient, as she knew nothing of the history between these two, and she wanted her father's attention. Bryony said, "Daddy! Come and see! Look, I did a picture!" She held up a piece of parchment on which there was an unrecognisable daub in bold primary colours. Clearly, she expected nothing less than fulsome praise for her efforts.

Lucius relented, and smiled at the child. He knew well how she could command him to obey her, and willingly he did her bidding. For a moment he forgot his animosity for Hermione Granger, and instead stepped over to his daughter's side so that she could show him her drawing. His attention was concentrated on tactfully trying to discover what she had drawn, so that he could respond with the right noises of approval. He was surprised by the bright colours in the picture: this was no vegetable-based ink from the wizarding world. Lucius had to stop himself from glaring at Miss Granger when he realised that she had given Bryony Muggle colouring sticks, which no doubt bore a strange name that he had no interest in hearing. When he discovered that the picture was of a red London Muggle bus, it took all Lucius' self control not to hurl abuse at the young woman who still sat beside his daughter with a straight back and a neutral expression.

"Am I to take it that you are instructing my daughter?" he asked, unable to keep silent any longer. His voice was quiet and filled with loathing.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Mr Malfoy." Then she added, with a hint of malice, "Didn't Cho tell you?"

Malfoy knew she had him at a disadvantage. He had no wish to make a fool of himself in front of this Mudblood, and also he was aware of his daughter looking from him to Hermione in a puzzled way. He would not make a scene in front of her, his precious darling, even though he was seething inside. Instead, he turned from Hermione to Bryony, and said to her, "Bryony, I understand your lesson is finished. I'll wait over there, while you clear away. Make sure you tidy up properly for Miss Granger, there's a good girl."

Lucius turned on his heel, and strode over to the bay window, where he sat sideways on the window seat, looking out at the walled garden below. He pretended to ignore the activity in the room, although he listened attentively as Hermione and Bryony cleared everything away, and watched via the reflection in the window as they put some items into a large cupboard, and others into a leather briefcase that obviously belonged to Hermione. Finally, he heard the Granger woman bidding Bryony goodbye, then she added, "Goodbye, Mr Malfoy," obliging him to turn and reply stiffly in kind. With relief, he watched her leave the room.

Bryony came and stood before him, a miniature version of her mother, and looked at him with large brown eyes. "Daddy sad?" she asked, pulling down the corners of her mouth. Lucius gathered her into his arms, and was glad that she could not see the tears that sprang unbidden to his eyes as he hugged her.

No, he thought, Daddy isn't sad. But he is bloody furious!

Lucius spent the afternoon with Bryony. He took her outside, wrapped up well by a fussy house elf, and they went into the walled garden, which was sheltered from the worst of the wind. Bryony loved flowers, and here they grew in profusion, the fragile long-stalked varieties protected from the elements by the weathered stone. Lucius expected her to take him to her favourite scented roses, but instead she led him by the hand to the herb garden, where there grew a mixture of culinary herbs and potion ingredients. Bryony proceeded to name each kitchen herb in turn in the first bed, and to say what it was used for. She had been well taught, and her recitation was mainly accurate. Lucius praised her memory. He was genuinely impressed with her, Draco had been far less studious at her age.

"Miss Currer is a good teacher isn't she?" he said. "She's taught you well, you remember all the names! You're a clever girl."

Bryony was proud of all she had remembered, and accepted the praise as her due, but she could not let her father's mistake go uncorrected. "Miss Currer good," she agreed, "but Miss Granger helped me better. She teach me how to 'member the names. She make lesson fun."

Lucius' daughter was not yet sophisticated enough to recognise the hard look in her father's eyes, for he held his interested expression, and merely said, "Miss Granger again? Does she teach you much?"

"Miss Currer teach me more," Lucius was relieved to hear. "Miss Granger very busy, Mummy said. She's very clever witch. She works at university. Only very clever people work at university."

"What does she teach you?" asked Lucius, keeping his voice level.

"About Muggles. Her Mummy and Daddy are Muggles, and she know all about them."

Lucius was silent. He breathed in and out deliberately slowly, his nostrils flaring, his jaws clamped firmly shut until he could trust himself to speak again.

"Muggle Studies is it?" he said tightly. "Has she been teaching you Muggle Studies?"

Bryony nodded in agreement. "Yes, Daddy. There are lots of Muggles in England, so it's very important to know about them." Lucius almost shuddered as he heard this last pronouncement, obviously repeated parrot fashion from her lessons. However, in spite of himself, his curiosity was piqued, and he said to Bryony, "What's the most interesting thing that Miss Granger has taught you?"

In reply, Bryony pulled Lucius to the next bed in the herb garden. "Look!" she told him, pointing. "Bryony! Like me!" She took a deep breath, and recited slowly and precisely in a sing-song voice: "_Bryonia dioica_ or English mandrake. It can be used as a medicine. But it's very poisonous, and tastes nasty.

"Miss Granger said not to touch. The berries look pretty, but I mustn't eat them."

Lucius nodded in agreement, and crouched beside Bryony to look at her namesake, its shiny vine-shaped hairy leaves climbing up the trellis against the wall, its berries swelling and turning an inviting shade of red. His arm around her waist, he said, "She's right, my studious little witch. Bryony is a pretty name, and the plant has pretty red berries. But you must never eat them. When you're older, you'll learn how to use all the plants properly, but till then, you must only look and not touch any of the plants in this bed. They're all very dangerous unless you know how to use them safely. Promise me you won't pick any of them, even if the flowers look nice?"

Bryony turned and looked at him seriously. "I promise," she said. Then she flung her arms around her Daddy's neck, and kissed him on the mouth. Lucius hugged her back, and lifted her high on his shoulders for a parade around the flower beds.

"Roses now, Daddy," she commanded. Lucius turned to obey, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. Who would have thought that the former Death Eater would be so happy to ordered around by an imperious girl child?


	2. Chapter 2

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 2**

Cho Chang locked the door as her last customer left Cho's Chic. She pulled down the hand-painted blind over the glass part of the door, and turned to Alan. She rolled her shoulders, and rotated her neck, trying to free the tension in her muscles.

"Tired, my sweet?" asked Alan, smiling at her as he carefully folded up the suit he had just been fitting. Cho nodded her head. "A little. I haven't been sleeping too well recently."

"Has Bryony been keeping you awake?"

"No, she sleeps very well. Since she started having lessons, she's usually exhausted at bedtime. She's so keen to learn, she concentrates so hard. When I see her afterwards, she's dying to show me what she's learned. It's almost more tiring for me than when I spend a whole day with her. I'm just overtired – you know how difficult it is to sleep sometimes when you're desperate to drop off. "

"And how's Jane Currer working out?"

"She's very good. Grandma was right. I was a bit doubtful at first, she seemed such a shy little thing. I thought Bryony would be too wilful for her. You know how stubborn she can be – she has her father's temperament sometimes." Cho grinned. "Yes, I know I can be stubborn too, so she gets it from both sides. But Bryony loves her. Her quiet manner seems to work like magic. She's the fount of all knowledge. It's 'Miss Currer says' all the time these days."

Alan glanced around the shop one last time, collected his cloak, and prepared to leave. He gave Cho a brief hug, and kissed her on the cheek. "Have an early night if you can. Use a potion if necessary. If you don't have any left, remind me tomorrow and I'll make you some more. Goodnight, my love."

Cho let Alan out into Diagon Alley, and locked up again behind him, sealing the door with wards for extra security, for there had been a number of robberies lately. Many wizarding folk were too trusting, and most local premises were unoccupied at night. Cho then checked over the shop one last time, and wearily climbed the stairs at the back of the shop to the flat, carrying the day's takings with her in a large canvas bag. She was not really paying attention as she walked into her living room. Then she realised that the room was not lit solely by the summer evening sun, but that the lamps were lit too, and a familiar figure had made itself at home in her most comfortable armchair.

"Lucius!" she said, her surprise evident. "I wasn't expecting you."

Lucius put down the book he was reading, but did not rise. A pair of cool grey eyes regarded her steadily. He said nothing. Cho searched Lucius' face for clues to his mood. She had known him well for many years now, and learned to read him. She realised that he was angry, but controlling it very well. These days, Lucius was not as overtly angry as often in the past. When something annoyed him, he tended to seethe quietly. But this was much worse, she could see that he was furious.

Inwardly, Cho sighed. Soothing Lucius was the last thing she needed just now, feeling as weary and tense as she did. She had been looking forward to seeing Bryony, and spending a pleasant evening in her daughter's company.

Playing for time, Cho unhurriedly made some camomile tisane. She brought two cups over to the coffee table, and sat opposite Lucius, tucking her legs under her on the sofa. "What's wrong, Lucius?" she asked finally.

"So you admit something is wrong then?" he replied. His eyes had hardened. Cho realised Lucius was not just furious, he was furious with **her**. But she was too tired to play verbal gymnastics. She chose her words carefully, saying, "Lucius, I've had a very hard day. I'm tired too, I didn't sleep well last night. Please don't play games with me. If you have something to say, say it."

The grey eyes flashed, but Lucius kept his voice level. He had learned over the years that Cho would not tolerate being shouted at. "I went to see Bryony this afternoon. I arrived at Gildenford Hall just as she was finishing her lesson, so I met her tutor." He looked meaningfully at Cho, but she was nonplussed.

"Sorry, I don't understand. You met Miss Currer? What didn't you like about her?"

"No, I didn't meet Miss Currer because she wasn't there. I have met her on previous occasions, and she's a perfectly respectable witch, if a little shy and plain, and she seems to be a good teacher judging by what Bryony has learnt. I met Bryony's **other** tutor." Now his eyes challenged her to misunderstand him.

"Ah, you mean Hermione Granger?" said Cho, "Well, Lucius, I know you don't like Hermione very much, but I still don't see why you're so angry."

Lucius looked very hard indeed at Cho, as if he was doubting her sincerity. "Did you do it to annoy me?" he asked. "I know we've had our differences, but so far we've never disagreed about Bryony."

"To annoy you? No, of course not! I chose her because she's easily the cleverest witch I know, and she needed the money. University research bursaries don't pay very well. She teaches part-time at the university, but they couldn't give her enough hours. When I found out she was prepared to teach a six-year-old, I jumped at the chance. The only reservation we both had was that she had no experience with young children, so we decided to see how it went. But she turned out to be a natural, at least as far as Bryony's concerned. They get on really well."

"May I ask why I wasn't consulted?" asked Lucius stiffly.

"Consulted? I don't understand. Grandma hired Jane Currer for me, and arranged everything. I told you after it was all done. You didn't complain. You said you were happy with whoever I chose."

Lucius said, "I understood that she was to be the only tutor. I wasn't aware that anyone else was involved with Bryony's education. Except your grandmother of course, to teach her Chinese. You didn't think my daughter's education was important enough to tell me about what was happening?"

"Hermione only started a couple of weeks ago. I haven't seen you to tell you, that's all. It wasn't a deliberate secret. Lucius, why are you making such a fuss? Is it just because you don't like her? Well, hard luck. Hermione's an excellent teacher. How many six-year-olds get the chance to be taught by a university professor?"

"You really don't know what's the matter?" Lucius was white with rage, although he did not raise his voice. "Do you know what she's teaching my daughter? Have you seen any of her lessons?"

"She's **my** daughter too, Lucius," said Cho firmly. She sighed. "Spell it out for me. Exactly what has she taught Bryony that is so terrible?"

"Muggle Studies!" Lucius almost hissed the words, they were said with such contempt. "As if it wasn't bad enough that they teach it at Hogwarts, my daughter is now exposed to this in her own home. What are you thinking of? You know my views on Muggles!"

Cho regarded Lucius with raised eyebrows. She knew she hadn't been entirely honest with him. She had deferred telling him about Hermione's appointment because in her heart she had expected him to react like this. She had told herself it was because the trial period was not yet over, and if Professor Granger did not stay at Gildenford Hall as Bryony's tutor, there would be no necessity to tell him at all. She had no intention of saying any of this to Lucius though. Instead, she raised her chin defiantly, and looked at Lucius steadily from her dark eyes.

"Lucius, I know you hate Muggles. You think they're the dirt beneath your feet. But just remember, I'm descended from Muggles on my mother's side, and so Bryony is part Muggle too, even if it's a very tiny part. I want her to learn positive things about Muggles, so she's proud of all her family. I also don't want her to pick up any of that Malfoy pure blood nonsense from you. I hate it. I never speak about it, because I know how you feel, but I'm telling you now. Hermione is a perfect role model for Bryony. She's got where she is today by hard work, and without any of the Malfoy or Chang connections Bryony has. I want my daughter to see that who you are depends on what you do with your life, not who your parents are."

Lucius looked taken aback. He had obviously not expected such a robust defence from Cho. He said stiffly, "And that's your final word on the subject, I take it?"

"It is. Now Lucius, I'm very tired, and I need to collect our daughter. Come with me if you like?"

But Lucius was in such a bad mood following this encounter that he declined the invitation. Instead, he departed abruptly, with a curt nod in Cho's direction. As he disapparated, she could see the sneer on his face.

* * *

Jane Currer was taking a walk in the grounds of Gildenford Hall. She enjoyed the spacious green park, especially the small lake and the ancient trees soaring skywards and spreading their leafy branches wide. She walked towards the ornamental pavilion built by the side of the lake to fulfil the whim of a previous owner. She liked to sit there and watch the light playing on the water, and the family of swans gliding by, the parents elegant as ballerinas, the half grown young ones gawky in their grey-brown ugly duckling plumage.

Jane walked onwards, dividing her attention between the well-worn track and the lake. She was unaware till the last minute of a tall figure coming towards her from the direction of the house, and she stopped abruptly to prevent herself from walking straight into him. She looked at the man for the first time, and blushed crimson as she saw who it was.

"Miss Currer," he said to her, "Lucius Malfoy. We met a few weeks ago, if you remember?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, I remember," replied Jane barely above a whisper. Could he really believe she did not recall the encounter?

"The weather is very pleasant today," he observed. But she saw that he was not looking at the sky or admiring the scenery, he was looking at her in a very disconcerting manner. Jane knew she was not pretty, but plain women have feelings too, and Lucius Malfoy had an air of danger about him that somehow made him very attractive. Jane was wise enough to realise that if he was paying her any attention, he must have an ulterior motive, but she decided to enjoy the moment, as far as her embarrassment would allow. She raised her eyes to look into his face. Two pairs of grey eyes regarded each other steadily. Lucius' long silver-white hair stirred gently in the breeze, whereas Jane's brown tresses were neatly trapped in a smooth bun at the nape of her neck.

"Indeed, Sir. It's a lovely day. Are you out here enjoying the wonders of nature?"

"One must make the best of any chances. One never knows what tomorrow may bring." Jane realised that this reply might or might not refer to the weather or the wonders of nature. She decided to wait and see what Mr Malfoy really wanted. No doubt he wished to know something about his daughter's progress in her lessons. She stood patiently, and said nothing.

"Are you enjoying your new job teaching my daughter?" he asked her, with a slight smile. Jane felt herself reddening again, as unbidden her body responded with a twinge between her legs. She felt exposed, even though she was swathed in clothing from neck to ankle. "Of course," he continued, "I shouldn't ask you such a question, for what can you say in reply if you wish to remain in employment? Let me instead ask you to walk along with me, and tell me a little about what you have been teaching her, for you must know that small children do not always answer one's questions in the way one would wish." So saying, Lucius offered Jane his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they began to walk towards the pavilion once more, Jane ever conscious of the closeness of this man, of his maleness and the animal grace with which he moved. She was also aware of her own body far more than she had ever been in her life before. She caught herself walking taller than usual, and thrusting out her chest like a battleship in full sail: or that was how it seemed to her, but Lucius did not seem to be aware of anything out of the ordinary, and he began to question Jane in more detail.

As the two of them strolled along, Jane was obliged to give Lucius' questions her full attention, and consequently she relaxed a little, for she liked speaking about her work. Bryony Chang was a delightfully attentive pupil, eager to learn and full of curiosity, so Jane was able to praise the child to her father without the necessity of exaggeration. In turn, the doting father seemed less formidable as he drank in all that she said. Jane had begun to enjoy herself, and even to joke slightly with Mr Malfoy when she realised that the questioning had changed in tone. He was asking her about Professor Granger; but he did not call her that, he called her "Miss Granger", and he said it in such a way that Jane could hear the dislike in his voice. He wanted to know how Jane felt about her position being usurped by another tutor. Did she feel pushed out, or that her position had been undermined by this other woman?

Jane Currer was in fact in awe of Hermione Granger. She did feel pushed out and slightly resentful, but she was not proud of this feeling, for she recognised that Professor Granger was an exceptionally clever witch, and that her pupil was lucky to have such a tutor. Hermione had always been pleasant to her, and slightly apologetic about her late appearance on the scene after Jane's appointment. So she did not admit her resentment to Mr Malfoy, but instead said that they each taught different subjects, and so there was no difficulty. Her tone or her manner seemed to stop Lucius from pursuing the matter, and by now they had reached the stone pavilion.

The wizard released her arm, and stepped up into the structure, and turning to Jane, he offered her a hand to help her up, and guided her onto the stone seat facing the lake. He then sat beside her, slightly too close for her to relax. Jane realised he was still holding her hand, and made to withdraw it. Lucius tightened his grip, turned and looked at her again with his fathomless grey eyes, daring her to pull away again. Jane felt confusion, longing, and not a little fear, but she did not move. She sat motionless and silent, listening to the thump of her own heart.

"Speak to me, Jane Currer," said Lucius, turning to look out at the water.

"What about, Mr Malfoy?" she asked him, surprised.

"Whatever you like. I leave the choice of subject and the manner of treating it entirely to yourself." Jane was silent, bewildered.

"You are dumb, Miss Currer," he observed, looking at her once more: a flash of defiance in her eyes.

"Stubborn? Ah, and now annoyed too. Let me see. It is because I ordered you about like a servant, and a governess is not a servant. I rephrase my request to you. Please talk to me. I feel the need to be diverted. I like the sound of your voice."

"I will endeavour to amuse you, Sir. But how do I know what topic will interest you? You could continue to ask me questions."

"Talk about yourself, girl. Tell me who your people are, and where you come from. Why are you a governess?"

So Jane Currer told Lucius Malfoy about herself. It was mainly a monologue, with a few brief interjections from Lucius. She could tell that he was listening carefully to her, especially when she told him her family connections. Once he was satisfied that she was descended from good wizarding stock on both sides, he relaxed gradually, the hand that held hers gripping her less tightly. Jane did not again attempt to remove her hand from his, but gave in to the urge to lean slightly against Mr Malfoy. As he felt her weight, he turned to look at her, his silken hair brushing her cheek, and once more she felt a contraction deep inside her core. Lucius again faced the lake, listening to her soft voice telling her tale, and she was afraid no more.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 3**

Cho Chang lay on her four poster bed propped up on half a dozen pillows. She ran her hands protectively over her swollen belly as if to soothe the waiting baby. She tried to think calm thoughts, but she was so uncomfortable. She had tried sitting in different chairs, lying flat, and walking slowly around her rooms and the rest of the house. Walking had been the best solution for a while, but then she had stopped due to a combination of boredom with the scenery - for she had seen every room an infinite number of times in this way during these past few weeks - and the aching in her back, legs and swollen ankles due to the extra weight she was carrying, and the posture it forced her to adopt. Cho wished the baby would come: the waiting seemed to go on forever and she was sick of feeling like a beached whale, especially during these hot summer days; though she was slightly afraid too, for she had never done any of this before.

She looked around the room and admired her handiwork, for she had had a sudden burst of energy, which her grandmother had called the nesting instinct. During this time she had used her creative talents to the full, sewing new curtains for the windows and the bed, and beginning a patchwork quilt for the baby. This was a work in progress, for it was not for the baby's crib, but for her expected child when he or she slept in a proper bed. She planned to add pieces to the design as the baby grew up and developed its own individual personality. It was also something she could do while sitting waiting for the baby to decide to be born. Now she picked up her sewing basket, and was about to select a new piece of fabric to work with, when she heard a noise in the grate.

Cho turned to the fireplace. No fire had been laid for a month since the start of this long spell of sunshine, but in place of friendly flames she saw the outline of a face that smiled and asked, "Is it convenient to call?" She smiled back, and said it was exceedingly convenient. The head was then seen to be attached to a body, and the tall figure of Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace onto the hearthrug. He strode over to Cho, bent over her, and kissed her deeply, stroking her black shining hair as she flung her arms around his neck. The pair had an agreement that he could call on Cho in this manner in her own rooms at Gildenford Hall, but if he wished to visit elsewhere in the Chang house, he must enter in the usual way via the front door.

Lucius sat on the edge of the bed, and scrutinised Cho, missing nothing. He stroked her face. "Tired, my love?" he asked her.

"No, Lucius, I'm not tired, just bored. I can't do anything, I'm such a lump, and I can't get comfortable either."

"Let me rub your back and feet for you," replied Lucius, removing his jacket. "Close your eyes and lay back," he commanded her. She obeyed without question, and he sat cross-legged on the bed with her feet in his lap. Firmly, skilfully, he massaged first one foot and then the other. He knew how to soothe away the aches in Cho's foot muscles without tickling her feet. On previous occasions, he had teased her mercilessly about her ticklishness, and deliberately tickled her after lulling her into a false sense of security, but since she had become so heavy with her pregnancy he sensed that she just wanted to be pampered, and resisted the temptation. After her feet, he massaged her ankles and her calf muscles, pushing his fingers into them so hard that it hurt her, the pain followed immediately by a blessed relief from the stresses of the day when he lightened his touch.

Lucius moved up the bed, and told Cho quietly to lie on her side. She turned over, and he arranged the pillows to support her, placing one under her "bump". Cho was wearing a loose fitting robe, and she discovered that he had managed to undo the buttons without her realising while he was ostensibly merely plumping her cushions. He eased the bodice of the robe off her carefully, while kissing her neck and shoulders, and then deftly slid the robe away from under her. He removed her bra equally efficiently. Cho's nipples stiffened with desire, but he kept his hands away from her breasts, and removed his shirt. Cho felt the coolness of oil on Lucius' hands, and smelled the faintest scent of lavender, as he then massaged her back, finding all the knots of tension in her shoulders, and as with her calves, she endured the pain of the forceful pressure on her stiffest muscles in order to feel the wonderful release when he stopped. Cho began to feel like a rag doll as she relaxed into Lucius' touch. She felt herself falling asleep.

However, Lucius had not finished with her. As she lay, her back pressed against the hairs on his warm chest, he slid one hand around her, and stroked Cho's swollen breasts, supporting their weight. He brushed his palm repeatedly against her nipples so that they hardened in response, and then he circled each nipple with his fingers and thumb, finally pinching them firmly in turn so that she gasped. Cho no longer felt sleepy, as tongues of flame ran through her nipples and evoked a response between her legs. Unconsciously she pushed her breasts further into Lucius' hand, and a shiver ran down her back as he nuzzled her neck, tickling her shoulders with his hair. Lucius kissed her shoulders, and all the way down her spine to her waist, sliding her underwear down so that he could also kiss her buttocks. He then turned her over again and arranged the pillows so that she was once more propped up half-sitting. He took the opportunity at the same time to kiss her breasts lingeringly, sucking almost painfully on each nipple. "One advantage of pregnancy," he leered as he admired their increased size, pretending to weigh one in each hand. Cho blushed a little, but smiled back at him, pleased that he found something to admire in this body she herself found so alien.

Lucius told Cho to lift herself slightly, and with practised deftness slid her briefs down her legs and over her feet so that she lay naked. Gently he placed her feet wide apart, knees bent. Cho could feel that she was wet with desire, longing for Lucius' touch. Lucius lay on the bed with his head between Cho's knees. First he kissed her inner thighs just above the knee, and he worked his way slowly upwards till she felt his tongue touch her labia. Cho moaned and thrust herself at Lucius' mouth, but he continued to tease her, running his tongue around the entrance to her vagina, and occasionally flicking it against her clitoris. Then, as desperation grew in her, Cho felt him slide two fingers inside her, angled perfectly to massage her most sensitive spot. Simultaneously, his tongue found her clitoris. Cho thrust her hips forward so that the fingers pressed more deeply into her, and in response Lucius' tongue hardened and massaged her faster. All of Cho's concentration was on these two most sensitive parts, and the sensations running from them to deep inside her. She felt pressure building up, till suddenly she was at the peak of the mountain in an instant of nothing. Cho gave a great cry before she was hit by wave upon wave of pleasure. Contractions shook her body, which seemed to have a life of its own. She gripped the bed, and screamed, "Lucius!" in her ecstatic agony. In response he pressed his fingers into her, prolonging the moment. On and on went the waves, until a part of Cho's brain suddenly seemed to be saying to her that this time was different.

In the middle of her orgasm, Cho Chang laughed, and shouted out, "Lucius! The baby's coming! I'm having a contraction!"

* * *

The labour lasted for hours. Lucius did not know what to do with himself. He could faintly hear intermittent screams from Cho's room, and feelings coursed through him in turn: concern for Cho in her agony and guilt for being the cause of all this pain; a longing to see this new son or daughter; an unexpected surge of love for this young woman whom he had initially seduced as one more conquest; anxiety lest the child should be born less than perfect. His memory went back to that day 22 years ago when his only son had been born, and he felt even more guilt that his son's mother had died a few months ago in order to save him, while he in turn had just betrayed her by starting the spark that would eventually result in the birth of this newest offspring. That labour had not been easy either. Narcissa had barely been able to hold her babe in her arms when she had finally pushed Draco into the world.

Lucius also felt slightly awkward here in the palatial Chang house. It was not a feeling with which he was familiar. Malfoy pride had always meant that Lucius cared little for the opinions and feelings of others, but here things were different. In the past, he had almost always been either on his own property, or in the presence of his social inferiors such as tradesmen or schoolteachers. The Changs were even richer than the Malfoys, and the fact that their wealth came from trade mattered little when one was as wealthy as this Chinese wizarding family, especially when jade was the item traded. Gildenford Hall was larger than Malfoy Manor, and like Malfoy himself, Sun Chang owned other properties. Also, Lucius was aware that he was only tolerated here for the sake of Cho. As long as Cho wished it, he could come and go as he pleased, but he was well aware that should he treat her badly in any way so that she no longer wanted him, the door would be barred against him. He knew that Sun Chang disapproved of him as the lover of his granddaughter, for his age and his history were against him. Lucius had never tried to hide his womanising ways: on the contrary, he had flaunted his lifestyle in the faces of many people of influence in the wizarding world. Sun Chang was not convinced that Malfoy could or would change in order to be faithful only to Cho Chang, one year older than Malfoy's son, and still young enough to be convinced that she would love only one man for her whole life. Malfoy did not blame him for this, he was still unsure himself if he really could change, but he had promised to try.

What should an expectant father do during those agonising hours, waiting, waiting? Lucius had heard that Muggle fathers were present at the birth of their children, but he did not believe this could possibly be true even for such unspeakably uncivilised beings. Birth was witches' and house elves' business. Wizards were shooed away as being completely useless and merely in the way: and what respectable witch would want the father of her child seeing her in such an undignified position, screaming in agony? For magic could help but a little: witches and Muggles suffered alike during this most animal of processes.

Lucius could not leave Gildenford Hall, even though he might have to wait until the next day. He must be here so that as soon as the child appeared, he would be ready to greet it. He could not bear to be in another place, far from Cho, even though he could apparate from Malfoy Manor in a few seconds. But the attention of the female household was focused on the birthing in Cho's chambers, while the men of the family were away at Chang Jade Holdings. So Lucius paced around the empty reception rooms; sat in the library and gazed unseeing at _The Daily Prophet_; strolled around the walled garden under Cho's window, pausing to sit in turn on each seat and attempt to focus on the plants; went back into the house and paced round the rooms again. House elves brought him food at regular intervals, but it lay untouched, and if Lucius felt a sudden pang of hunger, by then he had forgotten where the plate had been left.

Night fell, and the baby was not yet born. Lucius felt himself falling asleep in spite of his determination to remain alert. A house elf fearfully offered Mr Malfoy a room for the night. Madam Chang, Cho's grandmother, had promised he would be woken as soon as his child was born. Lucius was uncharacteristically civil to the elf, and after some thought, accepted his mistress's offer. The elf showed him to a bedroom, and brought him towels, and a large jug of hot water which he poured into a matching basin, then he backed out of the room bowing obsequiously. Lucius splashed his face with the water, and lay half dressed on the unfamiliar bed, his thoughts racing, and finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

At four o'clock in the morning there was a knock on the door, firstly soft, then louder. Hearing no response, a frightened house elf entered the room, and tentatively pulled on the sleeve of an arm hanging down by the side of the bed. Lucius awoke with a start, feeling completely disoriented. Eventually, he realised where he was, sat up and looked at the house elf, demanding, "Well? What's happened?"

"Please, Mr Malfoy," squeaked the elf, cowering, "Mistress says to come along now. The baby has been born."

Lucius leapt out of bed, adrenalin coursing through his veins, briefly ensured he was sufficiently clad for decency's sake, then strode after the elf, who scurried ahead, guiding him to Cho's chambers. The house elf halted outside her bedroom, and opened the door, standing back to allow Lucius to pass inside.

He entered Cho's bedchamber, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed: for Lucius Malfoy, a unique feeling. He paused just inside the door, firstly noting the others there: all witches. So he had been summoned before the Chang men. This was acceptance of a sort. Lucius then looked at the bed, and immediately only had eyes for Cho. She was sitting smiling at him, propped up by numerous pillows, in a freshly made bed, with a bundle in her arms: his child.

Lucius hurried forward to her side. Closer, he could see she was exhausted, her hair damp with sweat, although her face had been dried. Determination prevented her from collapsing, she smiled even more widely, and held out the bundle, but firstly Lucius kissed her, for once in his life ignoring his audience. Had he been paying them any attention, he would have noticed the glances of approval passing between Madam Chang the matriarch, her daughter-in-law Cho's mother, and the other Chang women. Instead, he murmured to Cho how proud he was of her, and their "love child", and she blushed at this reference to the act that had precipitated her labour. Lucius then took the precious bundle from Cho's arms, holding it with practised ease, for he had not forgotten, even though it was many years since Draco was so small. He looked down into the perfect face of his tiny daughter. He did not need to be told this was a girl child, somehow he knew, and to his surprise he was glad. He had a son, he had never had a daughter before: this was a new beginning in so many ways.

"Good morning, Bryony," he said, not trying to hide the tears shining in his grey eyes, "Welcome to the world."

In reply, his daughter yawned widely. Lucius Malfoy laughed with delight.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 4**

"Miss Currer, what think you of Divination?"

Jane Currer raised her head slightly fearfully as she was thus addressed by Lucius Malfoy. She was seated by the fire in his study. He had taken to asking her to sit with him in the evening. Each time, she felt compelled to obey him, even though he always formed the invitation as a request, not a command; but each time he looked at her as if he could see into her thoughts, and knew that she would not refuse. She had become accustomed to sitting opposite him during this last week, when she and Bryony were both staying at Malfoy Manor. Cho Chang was in Hong Kong on business, and had left her daughter in her father's care, on the understanding that lessons with Miss Currer were to proceed as usual.

Sometimes Lucius would speak to Jane, or more often request her to speak to him. On these occasions, he would close his eyes, lean back and listen, only interrupting occasionally to ask a question, or to urge her to continue if she paused. She thought he merely liked to listen to her voice, the topic was of lesser importance.

On other occasions, he would sit and read, and indicate that she should do likewise. They would then read in companionable silence, for Jane's initial fear of Mr Malfoy lessened with each encounter, although she could never entirely relax in his formidable presence.

But this was something new. "Fortune telling?" she asked, frowning a little. "I never thought about it since school. Is it true magic, or merely a deceit practised upon the gullible? Why do you ask me?"

"What would you say if I offered to read your fortune, Jane Currer?" asked Mr Malfoy.

"I should say, you may please yourself, Mr Malfoy; but I warn you, I have no faith in it."

"I like your impudence. I expected it of you."

"Impudence? Am I then once more a servant challenging my master?"

"You are right, Miss Currer. I am in the wrong again. But if it pleases me, will you consent to allow it?"

"I will, Sir."

"Then hold out your hand."

"And must I pay you with silver?" she enquired with a small smile.

"That will not be necessary, as I do this entirely for my own amusement," he replied gravely, but with a slight twinkle in his eye, "But if it seems proper to you, then by all means lay a sickle on your palm."

Jane held out her hand. Lucius examined it thoroughly. Then he shook his head. "I can make nothing of your palm, it's almost without lines. Besides, what's in a palm? I believe destiny does not lie there."

"I'm sure you're right, Sir."

"No. It's in the face: the forehead, the eyes, the lines of the mouth. Let me look at your face."

Jane remained still under his scrutiny, as he examined her face closely.

"Jane Currer, I see an inner calm; and I see bravery."

"Bravery? How, Sir?"

"You dare to look me in the eyes."

"Should I not dare? You yourself said that I am no servant. A cat may look at a king."

"You deliberately misunderstand me. You know well what I mean. Many women turn away when they see me. It used not to be so. A few years ago, for me women were there for the taking. I know I was admired. Now they fear me. I see it in their eyes: disgust, fascination, horror, pity. They cannot bear to look at me, but they cannot stop their eyes from staring at this apology for a face. But you do not turn away. Your eyes show no emotion but kindness. For this alone, I would have you as a companion."

"I did not know that the injury was so recent, Sir. I lived in Brussels for many years, I never saw your face before to compare. I saw much worse during the wizarding war, believe me."

"Yes, I'm sure you did. But the suffering of others is no comfort for someone like me, who had so many women I can't recall all of their beautiful faces. Yet I know they were all beautiful, for I never looked at a plain woman till now."

Jane stood up suddenly. A change had come over her. "Excuse me, Mr Malfoy," she said stiffly, "I must go to bed now. I have an early start tomorrow." She turned and walked out of the room, tears pricking the back of her eyes.

The following day, Jane taught Bryony as usual, and then took her round the grounds of Malfoy Manor, as the weather was fine. Following their nursery tea, after Bryony had been relinquished into the care of the house elves, Jane wondered what to do with herself, for she could not go and sit in Mr Malfoy's study and pretend everything was as before. She was not however completely familiar with Malfoy Manor. Where else could she sit? The drawing room was unused, she was sure. She would retire to her room, which was comfortable enough, and had a fireplace with an easy chair set beside it. She began to climb the stairs, when she heard a voice behind her.

"Miss Currer! Are you very tired? Have you had an exhausting day? Or are you merely fetching something from upstairs?"

Jane turned and looked down on Lucius Malfoy. The lamplight cast shadows on his face, she could not read his expression here away from the window. "I am tired, yes Sir," she replied.

"I do not believe you."

"You may believe as you choose, Sir, but I am going to my room."

"That impudence again! Come, sit with me awhile. You need not speak if you are tired. You can fall asleep by the fire, I shan't mind."

"That would be poor company for you, Mr Malfoy."

"Haven't I just said I shan't mind? Why don't you want to sit with me, Miss Currer?"

"Please, Sir, I would prefer to go to my room."

"Such stubbornness! I say plainly, I do not believe you are tired. You are trying to avoid me. What if I commanded you?"

"You cannot, Sir. I am not a servant, and even if I were, you do not pay me. Old Madam Chang pays me, and even she does not command me."

"Then if I ask you nicely? What manner of plea would persuade you?"

"You cannot persuade me."

"How so? But we have spent so many pleasant evenings in each other's company. What is different today?"

"It is the fact that you do not recognise the difference that makes it so." Jane flushed as she said this, but her face was determined.

Lucius stared at her. She looked back defiantly.

"Miss Currer, I find myself apologising to you rather often. You must know I am not in the habit of apologising to anyone, especially when I do not have a reason. If you want me to say sorry yet again, you will have to explain yourself."

"I do not expect you to apologise at all. I wish you to allow me to go to my room."

"Miss Currer, if you are so determined, then you shall go to your room. All I ask is an explanation, and all you do is speak in riddles. Tell me what is wrong! I never met such a vexing witch in my life!"

"Mr Malfoy, you should think over what you said to me last evening, but I expect you cannot remember at all. You are no doubt accustomed to speaking in such a manner to people you think are your inferiors. Do you think I am a machine without feelings? Do you think because I am poor, obscure and little, I do not care what you say to me? If I had some beauty and much wealth, you would not think to address me so! Well, I speak to you now as your equal, for such I am, whatever you think!"

Lucius frowned. Jane could see he was trying to remember their exchange of the previous evening. She could also see that he recalled nothing that he should not have said. She turned and walked upstairs, her back rigidly towards him, and her head facing firmly forwards, so that he should not see that her eyes were shining with tears. It was all she could do to reach her room safely, for she could not see the way, and was afraid that what remained of her dignity would be shattered should she trip over the edge of a carpet.

When she had successfully entered her room, she did not sit by the fire, but once the door was safely closed, she threw herself onto the bed, and no longer tried to stop the tears. They fell freely, until she could hardly breathe, and had to cough and gasp to allow some air into her lungs once more. Jane Currer was angry, hurt and confused. She had been unable to get Lucius Malfoy out of her head since she had first set eyes on him. Whenever she saw him, her body reacted instantaneously under her modest clothing. She had blossomed under the attention he had paid her. His reputation went before him, but he had always been so kind and considerate that she had readily tolerated the underlying arrogance, flattered that he should want her near him.

But he had shattered everything. He had called her "plain" to her face.

Plain Jane: a cliché.

She knew she was plain, but it was more than unkind to say so in front of her. No gentlewizard would dream of such behaviour to a lady: but he did not regard her as a lady, he thought of her as a glorified servant, whatever he said to the contrary. Before, she had wanted this week at Malfoy Manor to last forever. Now she could not wait for it to be over, so that she could retire once more into her virginal cocoon at Gildenford Hall.

Jane began to undress for bed, for she knew she could not relax with a book now. All she could do was hope for the blessed oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Lucius sat in his study, alone this evening for the first time in five days. He had been to wish Bryony goodnight after she had been bathed and put to bed by her house elf nursemaid. His daughter had demanded a bedtime story. Lucius had complied, smiling to himself at her insistence on the same story as the night before. He did a small performance for her as he read aloud, changing his voice for each character, trying hard to remember the right voice for each one, for Bryony would be sure to tell him if he made a mistake. Then he had kissed her goodnight, and she had flung her short arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly. Lucius now smiled to himself once more at this recollection, and felt a tug at his heart strings. Bryony was the one person in his life who accepted him as he was. There was nothing in her eyes except love for him: there was no horror or pity. Until now, he had not met another person who looked at him without reacting to the destruction of his face.

Until now. Now there was Jane Currer.

Lucius' thoughts turned to her. He knew that previously he would not have given her a second glance. What was it she had said? "I am poor, obscure and little." Had he called her any of these to her face? No he had not. He did not in any case think of her that way. Her family was old and respectable, certainly not obscure, but they had fallen on hard times. They were not unique. Witches from such families who were not inclined to follow a career often took a post as a governess. There was no shame in this, all pure blood wizarding families needed a governess. Little? Yes she was small in height, but her personality made up for that. She stood up to him fearlessly, she was no shrinking miss.

What had he said to Miss Currer that had upset her so? And why did he care so much what she thought of him? When Cho came back from her trip to Hong Kong, he need not see Jane again when she was once more ensconced in the Chang house. Lucius found that this thought filled him with regret. He wanted to continue to see Miss Currer; to listen to her calm, quiet voice washing over him. He loved that voice.

What about the rest of her? As far as he could see, for she was always swathed in robes from neck to ankle, she was well proportioned for her height, with a pleasing shape. Her hair was always imprisoned in a bun at the nape of her neck, but it was a pretty shade of mid brown that shone with reddish lights when she stood in the sun. Her eyes were grey, like his own, and she always looked him firmly in the face so that he could admire their clarity and honesty. In fact, she was hardly plain at all.

Plain. That was it. He remembered now. He had called her plain last evening. He had been so obsessed with his own feelings that he had not noticed. Lucius closed his eyes and silently cursed himself. How could he? What could he possibly say to Jane now that would make her want to sit by him? He had to be honest with her; he knew that if he lied to her in lieu of an apology, she would see straight through him.

Lucius poured himself a very large glass of Glen Foy single malt, and pondered as he stared into the fire.

Watching the dancing flames, his thoughts turned abruptly from his daughter's governess to the events of some years earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 5**

"Come live with me at Malfoy Manor," said Lucius, holding Cho in his arms, and kissing her hair. They were relaxing in Cho's sitting room at Gildenford Hall, Bryony asleep in her crib across the room. Cho lay back against Lucius' chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Lucius moved her thick hair aside, and began to kiss her neck, feeling her shiver slightly in response. His arms were holding her around her midriff, and they both knew he would soon move his hands upwards. Lucius was blatant about loving the enlarged breasts she had while she was feeding Bryony herself. He had suggested a wet nurse at first, for this was common practice among the richer families; but when Cho had refused, he had not pressed the point, saying that it would allow him to enjoy her enhanced assets for longer. Cho sighed a little as he supported the weight of her right breast.

"I don't know, Lucius," she replied. "The present arrangement suits me very well. And you won't get round me by doing that," she added, as he nuzzled her ear.

"Why not?" he persisted. "It's a big house, plenty of room. Lots of house elves to see to Bryony. Or we can hire a witch to watch her if you prefer, plus I'll be there to look after her when you go back to the shop. You can have your own rooms in the Manor if you want, just like you have here. We can take turns visiting each other at night, you in your frilly feminine boudoir, and me with my black silk sheets. Or you can sleep in my bed all the time, if you prefer. You can redecorate if you hate the colours. I know you have excellent taste, you choose all the décor, I put it entirely in your hands."

Lucius had decided it was time that Cho made up her mind, and had begun to question her more persistently. For quite a while she had put him off by saying that it was too soon after the birth, she was happy where she was.

Cho had been living at Gildenford Hall, the home of her Chang grandparents, since she had told her family of the pregnancy. In fact, her grandmother had already seen that Cho was pregnant. She had the ability to spot a pregnancy of only a few weeks: sometimes she even knew before the witch herself realised her own condition. Madam Chang had passed on this knowledge, firstly to Sun Chang, and then to Cho's parents. They had already discussed the future by the time Cho brought the matter to them, and they had merely presented her with their solution: Cho should have a suite of rooms at Gildenford Hall, which was large enough to accommodate her at some distance from her grandparents, so that she could maintain her privacy as far as she wanted. The baby would be born there.

If Cho did not marry Lucius Malfoy, after she returned to work the child would be looked after by Cho's grandparents and the house elves. If the older Changs found it too stressful, a witch would be hired as a nanny. When the child was older, a governess would also be appointed, and she too would live at Gildenford Hall. Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy could visit Cho at any time so long as she wished it, and have free access to see his child.

"Cho, I love you," said Lucius now, kissing her ear and squeezing her breasts gently. "Bring Bryony and come and live with me. We can be a proper family more easily than if you stay here. Malfoy Manor is a lonely place these days, it needs a new mistress. I know we can both apparate or use the floo network, and if you decide against it, we'll continue as now. But give our relationship a chance. Take a risk. Come live with me and be my love."

Cho tipped her head back to look at him from her dark eyes. Lucius kissed the tip of her nose. Cho rested her head against his shoulder, and pulled him down to kiss her mouth.

When they broke apart, he saw Cho smiling broadly at him. "Yes please, Lucius," she breathed, "Yes, we'll come and live with you."

* * *

Bryony Chang looked at Lucius Malfoy as he explained that they would be alone together in Malfoy Manor for a while. Draco would be there too, of course: her big brother, whom she adored unreservedly. Draco would play with her for hours, and hardly ever tell her off, unlike her great grandmother, who often reprimanded her if she screamed too loudly, played too roughly, or made too much mess.

Daddy told her, "Mummy's going away for a week, Bryony."

"Mummy going to Japan. Mummy telled me!" Bryony replied earnestly, pronouncing "Japan" carefully.

Lucius showed her Japan on a beautiful antique map of the world. "Look, Bryony, it's a long way isn't it? Mummy's friend Mariko lives there," he told her. Then he asked Bryony to show him England, and gave her a chocolate frog when she picked the right country.

Lucius loved the novelty of having Bryony to himself for a week. He spent the day entertaining his daughter himself, instead of leaving her to the house elves for much of the time as usual, choosing to do this to compensate for her mother's absence: for Cho had never been away overnight without Bryony before. She had been very undecided about the trip when the time came to leave, even though the reasons had been discussed many times.

Cho had gone to Japan on business. Cho's Chic was not making as much money as it should. Alan and Cho had had a tête-à-tête one day after work, where they had thrashed out the problem. Alan had pointed out that they had a lot of new customers, that was why the shop always seemed so busy: but the new people were not as rich. They came because they wanted to be seen in the best clothes, but they could only afford one garment made by Cho's Chic, and they did not come back.

"What about your old customers?" Lucius had asked. "You made clothes for all the best families. They can afford to come back again. The rich witches always want new clothes every season."

Cho had tried to avoid answering this question, but eventually had been forced to tell Lucius what had been happening at Cho's Chic. Alan had been the one to diagnose the problem:

"Cho, firstly, you were away for a relatively long time when Bryony was born, considering we were a new business. I know you couldn't help being ill, but it meant you were off for much longer than you planned. We kept going, and all the seamstresses we used were a wonderful find, and still work for us when we have enough sewing to give them. But the customers had got used to seeing you. I know a few prefer me, especially the older witches and the very conservative wizards, but most of our customers like dealing with you personally even if it's just to say hello. Your flair for design and cut is what makes this business. That's why it's called Cho's Chic. When people couldn't see you, they started looking elsewhere. They won't pay our prices for less than top service, they'd rather go to Madam Malkin's and get something off the peg.

"Then when you did come back, everyone knew you were involved with Lucius Malfoy, it wasn't a secret anymore. You weren't just another of his flings, you actually had his child, and he acknowledged her as his own. The Malfoys still have a bad name with a large number of wizarding families. So many of them have relatives who were killed by Voldemort or Death Eaters. Then there was the way it appeared Lucius moved you into Malfoy Manor straight after his wife's death. Not only was he a notorious Death Eater, but he didn't even respect his wife's memory. Narcissa Black had a lot more influence than we thought. Part of Lucius' acceptance by the cream of wizarding society was due to her smoothing the way for him. She was prepared to charm her way into the top echelons, whereas Lucius just sneered at everyone. People weren't to know Narcissa's portrait had effectively given you permission to be together. So you were tainted by association with Lucius, and people decided not to come back.

"But you're still an object of curiosity for some people – hence all those new customers. They make one relatively cheap purchase so they can come and have a look at you, but they don't come back."

Cho had edited the version of this she had told Lucius, but he still realised that he was partly the cause of her business problems. If Lucius had his way, Cho would not be working at all – neither of them needed the money – but Lucius was wise enough to see that her business was just as much Cho's baby as Bryony was, and refrained from saying anything to this effect. He merely asked her what she and Alan had decided was the solution.

"We decided to get another designer in for a while, to help build up the trade again. We have enough seamstresses on our books to make a lot more clothes, and most of them want more work than we can give them. A new face would get people through the door again, especially if I took a back seat for a while. I'd love to spend more time with Bryony now she's walking and talking, before she gets a governess. Eventually, people will forget about why they stayed away." Cho smiled: "Alan said I should take Bryony to work now and again too. I'd have all the witches cooing over her."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Another designer? I take it you have someone in mind?"

Cho replied, "I have a friend in Tokyo who is a wonderful designer. Her name is Mariko. She's been saying for years she'd like to move to London, but she's never done anything about it. So I plan to go to Tokyo and ask her if she'd like to work with me for a while. And at the same time, I could import some of the wonderful kimono fabrics she uses. The rich witches of England will all be wearing kimono silks next season!"

Lucius had listened to Cho's plans, and agreed that she should do whatever she thought her business needed. Bryony would be fine without her mother for a week, he would be happy to assume prime responsibility for his daughter.

However, Lucius had forgotten how exhausting a three-year-old child could be, and he was much older now than when Draco was three. He was grateful when Bryony had calmed down, and was happy to sit with a large pile of old parchment, and draw on the back of it. Lucius sat watching her, absorbed in her task. She reminded him of her mother, sat over her drawing board creating new fashions. Bryony was quiet, occasionally talking to herself about the creatures of her vivid imagination that she attempted to reproduce in ink, getting much of it on herself in the process. Lucius was glad he had insisted she wore her oldest robes.

Bryony finished her picture of a bright blue pixie, and turned to show it to Daddy, only to see that his blond head had fallen back, and he lay asleep in his chair. Bryony tiptoed right up to him, and examined him gravely. She did not touch him, but instead decided that she now had a great chance to examine something that had always fascinated her. Daddy had told her not to touch, but it was so inviting.

Bryony went to the corner, and stood in front of Daddy's cane, standing proudly in the old giant's foot umbrella stand near the door. The silver serpent's head glittered in a shaft of sunlight. Bryony loved the snake head, she stroked it tentatively with a tiny finger, feeling the smooth, cold metal. She then picked up the cane. This was difficult for a small child, for the cane was designed for a tall man. It was very unwieldy, and Bryony just missed overturning the umbrella stand, and when she knocked a side table, she looked round fearfully to see if her father had woken; but he did not stir. The cane scored the wallpaper as it wobbled in her grip. She then pulled at the snake head, as she had seen Lucius do, and she found herself holding Daddy's wand. Bryony was delighted, but she did not laugh or cry out, for she knew she was disobeying her father, and did not want to wake him. She felt a guilty pleasure as she ran her tiny fingers up and down the ebony shaft.

She then held the wand as she had seen Daddy do, and as Mummy did with hers, and waved it imperiously, saying the first spell that came into her head: "Incendio!"

Bryony screamed in shock as tongues of flame shot from the end of the wand, and licked the upholstery of a nearby chair, which immediately ignited and burst into flames. Bryony dropped the wand in fear, and stood paralysed, screaming again. As the wand hit the floor, the Persian carpet also caught fire, orange flames leaping upwards between Bryony and the door.

Lucius awoke to his daughter's howls of fear, and leapt to his feet. He saw Bryony standing before a rapidly spreading fire. Looking instinctively for his wand, he saw that she had moved his cane, and as he rushed towards her, he could see that the wand lay burning under the flames. Lucius lifted Bryony clear before her robes could catch fire, and turned to the door. The flickering flames were higher now, and between him and the door. Lucius grabbed the hearthrug, and wrapped Bryony in it so that she was almost completely hidden. Then he ran through the flames, shielding her from the fire with his own body. In the hallway, he put her down, and was about to unwrap her and check that she was unharmed, when he suddenly felt a searing pain: his shirt and hair were on fire. He tried to beat out the flames, but realised that all he had succeeded in doing was burning his hands too.

Lucius Malfoy screamed in agony as the skin of his head and back began to burn, with a sickening smell of roasting flesh.

Wide-eyed house elves ran into the hallway in response to their master's cries, to be greeted by the sight of Lucius writhing in agony on the floor as he rolled on the flames to try and extinguish them, while his daughter still lay swathed in the rug, her terrified sobs and screams adding to the clamour.

* * *

Pain. Searing pain. He awoke but could not move his head, he had been restrained by some magical force. He could tell he was in bed, but this was not his own bed or his own room. He tried to focus, but his vision swam. An unfamiliar face appeared. Then waves of nausea overcame him, and he passed out once more.

Later. It was night now, it seemed. A nightlight was burning beside him, casting flickering shadows on the unfamiliar walls. Still he could not move his head. Pain again, but duller now, a distant persistent throbbing. He lifted his arms to look at his hands, and saw nothing but white bandages. He tried to see if anybody was there, but the effort exhausted him, and he lost consciousness again.

Later still. Was this the next day? The room was dim, but there seemed to be evidence of daylight trying to get in around the edges of the blinds. He tested his head: yes, he was still restrained. He lifted his hands. No, he had not dreamt the white bandages. He tried to identify where it hurt, but the dull pain seemed to be coming from so many different parts of his body. He was floating in a warm sea, the noises he heard seemed to be so far away. He groaned involuntarily. A face again, a different one this time, peering at him. He could see its owner was wearing lime green robes: so this was St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He was unable to decide whether this was good or bad, and was still trying to decide when he slipped back into sleep again.

So it went on: slipping in and out of consciousness, only vaguely aware of his surroundings and the Healers who came in and out of the room at intervals; feeling as if he were not really here at all, is if his brain had decided to be in a separate place from his body, where the world was bright and the sunlight hurt his eyes; but always aware of the pain, distant now, but still remaining; barely able to prevent himself from screaming out loud when the dressings were removed and a new application of orange burn-healing paste was applied, for the pain of burned flesh exposed to oxygen is excruciating, even when one's senses have been dulled by laudanum.

He did not know how long he lay there, the Healers often working on him while he was unconscious due to the sleeping draught they gave him. He did not see their muttered consultations with each other, the efficient way they dealt with him. He did not see Cho Chang, who arrived to sit by his side hour upon hour, her face drawn and white with worry. He did not see the anxious glances she gave him, the way she questioned the Healers. He did not see Alan appear to sit by her side, to mutter such words of comfort as he could muster. He did not see Cho fall asleep from pure exhaustion with her head on Alan's shoulder.

Finally Lucius' eyes opened, and he felt more awake than before. He tried to move his head, and discovered that the invisible bonds had been removed, that he could turn and look to the side. He saw Cho sitting there, her brown eyes brimming with tears. Instinctively, she put out her hand to him, then withdrew it in confusion, for his hands were still bandaged, and so was his head and much of his upper body. Lucius looked into Cho's eyes and for a fleeting moment he saw something he had never seen there before. He did not recognise it then for what it was, and difficult as it still was for him to think clearly, he dismissed the thought from his mind to respond to her greeting as warmly as circumstances would allow.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 6**

Lucius Malfoy walked determinedly towards the lake at Gildenford Hall. As he strode along, his cloak blowing in the stiff breeze, he saw someone was sitting in the stone pavilion overlooking the water. His heart lifted slightly and he walked a little faster. As he approached the pavilion, he could see that it was definitely a female figure. It was not until he reached the structure, its stone walls hiding her from his view, that he realised it was not Jane Currer who sat there. Lucius would have turned to go, but he had made no effort to walk quietly, and the sitter had heard him. Her head turned towards him, and the face of Hermione Granger stared back at him, firstly showing surprise and then guarded dislike. Neither spoke: it was a clash of wills as to who would break the silence first.

Finally, Hermione said flatly, "Good morning, Mr Malfoy. I assume it wasn't me you were expecting? Jane is teaching Bryony just now. We changed over today because I had an appointment at the university earlier this morning. Jane will be finished at noon, and then I'll take over. If you want to wait here for Jane, I'll leave."

So saying, she stood up, and made as if to pass him by. But before she did, Hermione stood on the top step looking down at Lucius. He looked back at her, his loathing evident, but he said nothing.

Lucius noted with slight surprise that Hermione Granger had turned into quite an attractive witch. Since Cho had taught her how to do her hair, her natural brown curls, prettily ruffled by the wind, fell over her shoulders and framed her face. Her bright, intelligent hazel eyes met his gaze defiantly with a look of scorn in them. Lucius could not help but admire her spirit, even though she was a Mudblood. He allowed his own eyes to travel over her body as if he were examining a potential purchase at a livestock show. He could see this made her uncomfortable, so he deliberately continued, a slight smirk on his face.

"Finished your inspection, Mr Malfoy?" she asked him. "Do I pass muster?"

"Only just, I'm afraid," he answered airily. She threw him a look of pure hate. "Of course, the bloodlines aren't very satisfactory in your case, are they? What can one expect?" He was taunting her deliberately, and relishing her discomfiture.

Hermione walked down the steps. He did not move, so she was forced to walk very close to him. Lucius looked down on her, then suddenly brought up his cane so that the silver snake head forced up her chin. Hermione was not expecting this, and for the first time, a flash of fear appeared in her eyes. The cane moved along her jaw line and up the side of her face, the cobra head cold against her skin.

Lucius felt a sudden desire to take her. The thought of her struggling against him added to the feeling. He stepped towards her, and gripped her chin with a gloved hand. Hermione's head was now imprisoned between the hand and the cane, and her eyes now darted uncertainly from side to side. Lucius could hear her ragged breathing, and he felt himself hardening.

Suddenly, he came to his senses. It had never been Lucius' modus operandi to take a woman against her will: he had practised many forms of cruelty, but never that, although he had observed other Death Eaters demonstrating their power, violating women because as Death Eaters they could do so and remain unpunished. There were other considerations too: he was on Chang property, he did not know who might see him. If caught, the Changs might prevent him from seeing his daughter. Jane might happen along. Cho might find out. What would they all think of him?

Last of all, this female was a Mudblood. This had always been his strongest motive for avoiding rape, for the Death Eaters' victims were primarily Muggles or Mudbloods. The thought of contaminating his body in such a way was unthinkable.

Lucius released Hermione, and ignoring her completely, climbed up the steps into the pavilion to wait.

Hermione staggered away from the stone pavilion towards the house, hardly seeing where she was going. Eventually, she began to walk normally, and then she paused to take a few deep breaths. She glanced over her shoulder, and could just see the silhouette of Lucius sitting in the pavilion. She looked around, and seeing the entrance to the walled garden nearby, she entered, found a seat, and sat down gratefully, gradually recovering her composure.

Hermione tried to make sense of what had just happened. Lucius Malfoy had never been physically aggressive to her before, although he was always arrogantly scornful in her presence. This time, she had felt a genuine fear when he touched her, but that was not all. She sat, trying to analyse what had gone through her mind and body. Eventually, reluctantly, she had to admit to herself what the feeling was: she had been aroused. While feeling revulsion for this former Death Eater, she had simultaneously wanted that gloved hand to caress her face and neck, and the cold touch of his cane had sent a shiver down her spine. Hermione was horrified, and could not believe it of herself. She shuddered, and swore that she would try and avoid future contact with Lucius at all costs; but a tiny voice in the back of her mind murmured that if she was honest with herself, she actually wanted desperately to see and feel him again.

* * *

The following day, Lucius approached the stone pavilion once more. He could see from a distance that it was empty. When he reached it, he sat inside and waited as he had done yesterday: Jane Currer had failed to make an appearance the day before. He had not been surprised. He wondered what Hermione Granger had told her. He wondered if Jane would ever come this way again if she thought she might meet Lucius. She now probably had two reasons to avoid him. But he would try waiting here anyway.

Lucius had been sitting for what seemed like an age, the coldness of the stone eventually seeping through his outer clothing, when he heard a slight noise, and turned to identify its source. He saw Jane walking towards him, the hood of her cloak protecting her head against the fine drizzle now falling. He stood as she approached, intending that she should see him clearly, lest she was unaware of his presence: he had no wish to scare her. Jane continued to walk towards him, and she accepted his proffered hand, allowing him to guide her up the steps. She stood for a moment looking up at him, her head thrown back, then she sat down opposite him, arranging her skirts so that the hem, damp from her route over the grass, was not touching her legs. Jane pushed her hood backwards to her shoulders, unnecessarily smoothing her brown hair away from her forehead. Raindrops glistened on her lashes and cheeks. Lucius felt a great temptation to wipe them away, but instead he offered her a monogrammed lawn handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully.

"Miss Currer, I'm very pleased to see you," said Lucius at last, "In fact doubly so because you chose to brave the weather to come here."

Jane blushed a little, and replied, "Mr Malfoy, you were so very determined we should meet. It was not raining when you arrived, I know, but I saw you sitting here for such a long time, that I felt I must reward your patience." She gave a small smile at his surprise. "I used a spyglass at the house, it allows one to see a great deal from a distance. It's a very useful Muggle invention."

Lucius forced himself not to shudder at this, but instead congratulated himself on his self control the day before: he had been right to be wary on Chang soil. "We are even then, Miss Currer," he observed. "You braved the English rain - although it is supposed to be responsible for the beauty of the complexions of English witches, so perhaps a slight soaking has its compensations – and I endured a wait on a stone seat so cold that I can no longer feel my backside, for which I can think of no beneficial side effect whatsoever. It seems we both wished for this meeting."

Jane did not reply, instead she blushed a deeper shade of crimson. Now that she had run out of things to do, having rearranged her robes yet again, and run her hands over her face and hair more than once, she was at a loss. Lucius broke the silence.

"I owe you an apology, Miss Currer. I now recall what I said to upset you. I will not repeat it. Just allow me to say, that I like very much to have you near me. You have a very pleasant voice, calm and measured, and I like to hear you speak. You have beautiful clear eyes, and you look me in the face as do very few others. You are very careful about your appearance. You are always tidy and neat, your hair shines in the sun, in fact I wonder how it would look were it not so primly arranged. Your figure - what I can see of it beneath those robes you choose to wear - is very shapely. You did not deserve what I said.

"Am I forgiven?"

As Lucius finished this speech, that he had rehearsed to himself not a few times, he crossed over to sit beside her, took her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed her palm. He did not release her hand, but held it gently in his lap, still looking deeply into the grey eyes he had just complimented. Jane was now almost magenta with embarrassment, but he could tell it was pleased embarrassment. "Yes," she whispered.

Lucius leaned forwards, slowly, so that this timid bird should not fly away, and she did not move away from him. As he kissed her, she responded willingly, giving a small sigh. Lucius enveloped Jane in his arms, and kissed her more thoroughly, tentatively putting his tongue into her mouth. At first she flinched, and he withdrew, but she then opened her eyes, which said "yes" so clearly, that he tried once more, and this time she responded eagerly.

Aware of what Jane had just said to him, Lucius knew that there might be spies in the house. Also, they were almost in the open air on a damp, chilly English day, and he was fairly certain that Jane Currer was very inexperienced in the ways of love. He therefore contented himself with no more than lingering passionate kisses. There would undoubtedly be chance for more at a later date. He could feel Jane responding to him, and his groin ached longingly in return, but he was conscious of not rushing her. His own needs he could deal with later.

Lucius released Jane, and she lay her head on his shoulder. She seemed more relaxed now, as Lucius held her to him, and stroked her hair. "How old are you, Jane?" he asked.

"Twenty, Sir," she replied.

"Only twenty? You seem so mature in some ways for such a young woman. And Jane, in these circumstances, I think it would be appropriate for you to call me 'Lucius'. You are not, as you have so frequently reminded me, my servant."

"Whatever you say, Lucius," she replied softly, savouring his name on her tongue. "It's a beautiful name," she said, "It means 'light' doesn't it? It's very appropriate, with your silver hair."

"It used to be more gold than silver, my dear, but age has changed it to the lesser metal. Jane, I want to ask you something personal."

"Yes, Sir – I mean, Lucius - what do you want to know?"

"Jane, have you ever been with a man? Are you a virgin?"

Jane looked up at him in shock at the audacity of this direct question, then cast her eyes downwards again, blushing once more. "Yes."

"Saving yourself for your future husband, perhaps?"

Jane looked up at him again, but this time she looked hurt. "Mr Malfoy," she said deliberately, "Please don't laugh at me. That was a very unkind thing to say. You are not the only man who prefers the company of beautiful women. I do not have the luxury of saving myself, as you put it. You must be aware that I am unlikely to get many offers of marriage, or indeed I may get none at all."

Lucius held Jane under her chin, and lifted her face so that he could kiss her again, silencing her protest. He made the embrace last a long time, simultaneously teasing one ear with the tips of his fingers, while holding her firmly with his other arm. She fought him at first, and then gave in. Lucius felt her press against his chest, her arms flung around his neck. When he was sure she had been thoroughly subjugated, he let her go. He could see she was aroused, even if she did not know what to do with the feeling, her nipples visible through the fabric of her bodice, her cloak thrown back over her shoulders.

"Before you say any more, I must explain myself," he said. "I was not laughing at you. You must understand that I have been used to being the one pursued. I am unaccustomed to inexperienced women such as yourself. All the witches I have met over the years have stated only too clearly what they wish from me.

"I only wish to know if you have any moral objections to a physical relationship without marriage? Because if you do not, would you allow me the honour of being your first?"


	7. Chapter 7

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 7**

Jane's face was magenta once more, but she forced herself to look at him. "Lucius, before I answer, I must ask you something in return. Miss Chang is the mother of your daughter, but she does not live with you. What is she to you?"

A look of pain crossed Lucius' face. "Ah, my beautiful, clever Cho!" he sighed. "She came to live with me for some while after Bryony's birth. She would not marry me, even though I wished it, and asked for her hand before Bryony was born. I confessed my waywardness to her beforehand, though I am sure she already knew. She said she would rather try me first, to see if I could remain faithful to her. She knew I had never been faithful to Narcissa – you do know about Narcissa?"

"Yes. I have even spoken to her portrait. Bryony took me to see her. She's very beautiful."

"I did not deserve Narcissa, but I found out too late what she really meant to me. I promised Cho to try and be true to her. However, Cho would not risk a divorce. She told me, 'Changs never get divorced.' "

"What happened to separate you? Were you unfaithful to her?"

"Ah, ye of little faith! In fact I was faithful to her for the most part. Yes, I was weak, I fell once or twice, but Cho never found out. You do not know how persistent some women can be." He almost added, "Especially my cousin Lucinda," but the habit of discretion asserted itself. He had never discussed one woman with another.

"I can imagine how persistent some women can be," replied Jane quietly. He looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "If I had ever thought I stood a chance with you, and if I had a different temperament, I could see myself in that situation."

Lucius gave a hollow laugh. "Not now, my sweet Jane, I assure you. I am never troubled these days."

Jane regarded him steadily with her clear grey eyes, and said, "Please continue about Miss Chang. She did not find out about your affairs, you said. So why did you part?"

Lucius sighed. "We managed very well in the beginning. Our mutual love was always enough to surmount any differences, and of course we had Bryony. I offered Cho her own suite of rooms, and she accepted, choosing to have those next to my bedroom, with Bryony sleeping in the room next to hers. Cho was unwell for a time after Bryony's birth, and it was my pleasure to care for her: a thing I had never done for anyone before. When she recovered, she decorated her chambers according to her own excellent taste. I liked what she did so much, I suggested she did the rest of the Manor too, leaving only Narcissa's room as it was.

"But then things began to deteriorate. Cho was unhappy about the way I treated the house elves. She did not wish Bryony to copy me. It became worse as Bryony grew older, and Cho caught her shouting at her elf nursemaid. Cho was furious with me. On that one point we could never agree. House elves are there to serve us. It has always been so. For what other purpose do they exist?

"There was a growing bad feeling between us. Cho began to threaten to leave, and return to Gildenford Hall. We would still be lovers, but she could then raise her child as she saw fit. Such was our unresolved tension at the time of the fire."

"The fire?"

"Has nobody told you about the fire then?" Jane shook her head. "Perhaps they assumed you knew. It was the main headline in _The Daily Prophet_ when it happened, with various follow-up stories afterwards. But you were in Belgium, were you not? No doubt the Belgian papers did not find it important enough to write about.

"It was an accident. Bryony was three years old. She found my wand, and began to play with it, as children do. She accidentally set fire to the furniture and carpet. Luckily for my daughter, I rescued her, and she was unharmed; but I was not, I was badly burned. St Mungo's saved my life, but they could not save my looks. Of course, looks have never been a priority with Healers. Their business is curing the malady, it is up to the wizard how he deals with the cosmetic results."

"Why did Miss Chang leave you? Surely not because of your appearance?" Jane said, horrified.

"No, Jane! How could you think so? Cho would never be so heartless. On the contrary, she said she would stay because I needed her now. It was I who sent her away. I could not bear it when she looked at me and I saw the horror and pity in her eyes, reminding me every time of what I had become. I did not want her to stay out of a sense of duty. She said her feelings for me had not changed, and she knew I was the same Lucius Malfoy. But I **had** changed, I was an ugly man no woman could want, or so I believed. I drove her away."

"And did she never offer to return?"

"She did. I always refused. I was drunk for much of the time, and also frequently not in my right mind, for I became addicted to laudanum for the illusion of pleasantness it gave me. In my sober moments, I could see Cho was disgusted by the state I was in, and my indulgent self-pity. In the end, she stopped suggesting it, mainly because she did not want her daughter to live with a father who behaved in such a manner. When I saw Bryony only now and again, I was able to control my behaviour in her presence, but Cho knew I did not then have the willpower to stop the whisky and the laudanum permanently.

"Now, I see Cho mainly because of Bryony. I see my daughter whenever I like. Once I had reformed my behaviour, she stayed with me every day when Cho was at work. Now Bryony has begun her education, I still look after her when Cho is busy or abroad. But Cho is lost to me. She wanted to remain my lover, but I would not let her see me unclothed, so scarred and ruined."

"Lucius, I don't understand. You still love Miss Chang, don't you? If you can tell me all this, why can you not tell her? It's not too late, I'm sure."

"Ah, sweet Jane! Such a selfless suggestion when you have already confessed your own desire for me. Would it were so easy. No, too much time has passed. Also, you have not allowed for the Malfoy pride and stubbornness. It is not in my nature to beg."

Jane shook her head slightly, but did not comment on this reply. Instead she said, "There is one other thing I do not understand. If you were ashamed to let Miss Chang see you, then why did you suggest this thing to me?"

"Ah, now we come to the heart of the matter. I see I must be frank with you. Perhaps when you have heard my reasons, you will not be so eager to kiss me. The first reason is, that you have not seen me before, so you will not know what you have missed. Also, I believe from what you have said, you have never seen an adult male close to and naked?"

"That is so." Jane's eyes were downcast, and her face was deep crimson again.

"So you do not hold in your memory the perfect body of a young wizard beside whom I shall be a poor specimen. In a word, you are inexperienced."

"I see. And the second reason?"

"Jane, I used to pleasure women every day. Now I have no-one. A man has needs. You are the first woman who has looked at me with such desire for many a year. It is infinitely preferable to share the act of love with a willing partner, rather than dealing with my needs alone, aided by my memories and imagination.

"Now then, my virginal governess, have I shocked you?"

"No, Lucius." Jane looked up at him through her lashes. "I have no personal experience, as you said, but I am not entirely ignorant of such matters."

"So, Jane. It comes to this. You may have time to consider if you will. Any answer you give is not binding, you may change your mind at any time, such is the prerogative of a woman.

"Jane, will you allow this old, broken wizard with a disreputable past to be the man who introduces you to the act of love?"

Jane Currer took a deep breath, and spoke. "Yes, please, Lucius," she whispered.

* * *

The next day, Hermione Granger stopped to speak to Jane before she started her lesson with Bryony. She had deliberately arrived early in order to do this, to be sure of catching Jane when she emerged from the classroom. Bryony had a short break between lessons, and was in the kitchen being fed milk and freshly baked biscuits by all the female house elves, who loved having a small child in the house again after so many years.

"Can I have a word with you, Jane?" asked Hermione, wondering how on earth she was going to say what she had come to say.

"Yes, Professor," replied Jane. No matter how often she was invited to use Hermione's given name, she seemed to feel more comfortable with the formal title. This did not help Hermione's feeling of awkwardness at all. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Jane, can we go somewhere private?"

"We can use the classroom and close the door. Nobody else will come in if the door is shut."

They sat down at a corner of the large table where Bryony did her work. Jane looked expectantly at Hermione, smiling.

Hermione was very nervous, and had to resist the urge to rearrange the parchments stacked up neatly in front of her. She clasped her hands tightly together on her lap, and leaned forwards. "Jane, I can't help noticing – you seem to be spending quite a lot of time with Lucius Malfoy these days."

If Jane was surprised, she hid it very well. Outwardly serene, she replied, "Mr Malfoy talks to me about Bryony. He's very interested in what she learns. He says she doesn't really tell him about her lessons, so he likes to ask me."

Hermione looked at Jane searchingly. Was she mistaken? She thought not. She decided to carry on. "I'm sure he's very interested in his daughter. I can see that he cares for her very much. But, Jane, I don't think that's really the only reason why he spends so much time with you, is it? Telling him about Bryony's lessons would hardly take so long, would it?"

Jane blushed a little, but her voice remained steady as she replied, "You are right. I had not realised it was so obvious to others. Mr Malfoy seems to like my company. He likes me to talk to him."

"And you? How do you feel about him?"

"He's very kind to me." Jane was blushing beetroot red now, there was no mistake.

"You do know his history don't you?"

Jane said calmly, "He was a Death Eater. He went to Azkaban. But he served his sentence, he caused no trouble in prison. There is no record of similar behaviour after his release. Since then, he has broken no laws."

"Do you really believe he has changed?" asked Hermione incredulously. She paused a little before adding, "He still hates me because my parents are Muggles. If he had his way, I would not be allowed to cross the threshold."

Jane's eyes showed understanding. "Yes, I see now why he asked me about you. It seemed to me that he did not like you."

"Jane, is he just 'kind' to you? Or is there more?"

Grey eyes looked back steadily at Hermione, who was now flushed herself. Jane was obviously choosing her words carefully. "Professor, I do not think that last question is appropriate. We are merely colleagues, not close friends. I understand that Mr Malfoy does not like you, and I am sorry for it. But this has nothing to do with how I relate to him. To me, he has always been a complete gentleman."

Hermione had one last card to play. "Have you heard of his reputation with women?"

For the first time, Jane's eyes narrowed, but she did not raise her voice as she replied, "Professor Granger, you forget yourself. Firstly, it is not your place to question my behaviour, or to judge the behaviour of Bryony's father. Secondly, you seem to have forgotten that Mr Malfoy is a different man now, and I do not refer to his time in Azkaban, but to the fire at Malfoy Manor. That accident changed him irreparably, both physically and mentally. He has no women now."

Jane then closed her mouth firmly, as if she were afraid what else she might say. She rose, and walked purposefully from the room.

Hermione knew she was too late. Jane was already Lucius Malfoy's confidante, so much was obvious from her last remarks. What more there lay between the governess and the wizard she could only guess, but she could see that Jane had fallen under the Malfoy spell, just as Cho once had. Even Hermione herself had felt it during that encounter in the pavilion. She had been disturbed to find that her hate for this obnoxious man had been combined with a great desire for him to ravish her. She shook her disbelieving head slightly at the unwelcome thought, and tried to push it out of her mind.

Deliberately, she began to turn over her parchments and go over the next lesson.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 8**

Lucius had made his plans carefully. It was years since he had deflowered a virgin, and he was determined that the experience should be memorable in the most positive way for both Jane and himself. He felt both excited and aroused in a way he had not done for so long, yet also recognised another feeling with which he was not at all familiar: nervousness. He had not had a woman at all for three years. He was not worried about his ability to perform, he was hard now from merely contemplating the evening; but the idea of exposing his scars to a feminine gaze brought unwelcome thoughts, and he dreaded the possibility of rejection. He thrust the subject from his mind, and concentrated on ensuring that the table was set to perfection by the house elves: sparkling crystal glasses, shining white china with the Malfoy crest in dark green, and gleaming silver cutlery on a creamy white damask tablecloth followed a tirade of threats and curses.

At seven o'clock precisely, Jane Currer appeared just inside the door of Lucius' study at Malfoy Manor. He had decided they should dine there, for the room was both familiar to Jane, and cosier than the large formal dining room which would be far too overwhelming. Jane was carrying a slender pale green onyx bud vase in her hand: for Lucius had presented it to Jane as a gift, and enchanted it as a Portkey for her. Jane was not adept at apparating, and Lucius, knowing she would take care with her appearance tonight, wished to save her from travelling via the floo network: for not all wizards were careful to sweep their fireplaces regularly, and some journeys by this method meant that one sometimes arrived at one's destination in less than pristine condition.

Lucius firstly stood looking at Jane to see how she had chosen to present herself. He was pleased by what he saw: she had discarded her usual subdued greys and dark blues for a gown of smoky mauve silk, cut so that it emphasised her small waist, with a sweetheart neckline that was much more flattering to her graceful neck than her usual attire, and drew his eyes towards the swell of her breasts. Also, she had changed her hairstyle, and instead of the primness of her usual governess's neat bun, Jane had tied her hair in a pony tail high on her head with a length of ribbon to match her dress, so that long, silky brown tresses fell over her shoulders. She stood, and smiled uncertainly at Lucius.

He walked towards her, and bowed gracefully, taking her hand and kissing it gallantly. "You look lovely, my dear," he murmured. He then presented her with a perfect bloom: a white rose tinged with pink, just opening from its bud. He took the bud vase from her, filled it from a jug of water standing on the sideboard, and then set the flower in the vase in the centre of the small dining table. This was all done with such practised ease, Jane wondered how often he had done it before.

Lucius led her to their usual chairs by the fire, hoping that this would put Jane at her ease. "An aperitif, my dear?" he asked her. Jane looked uncertain, and began to blush.

"Sir – I mean Lucius – I am unaccustomed to drink much alcohol. I do not wish to be too – er – I mean…"

"I understand perfectly, my dear. Perhaps a glass of fresh fruit juice for now? I trust you will take a little wine with your meal though? Just enough to help you relax, but not too much to mar your full enjoyment of the evening. I believe that was your meaning?"

Jane nodded, completely speechless. Lucius sat opposite her. He must be careful not to scare her: he could see she was so nervous that she was almost shaking. He rang for a house elf, ordered Jane's fruit juice, and instructed him to serve dinner in twenty minutes. Lucius then poured himself a Glen Foy single malt, and deliberately talked of inconsequential things until he saw Jane relax a little. She then began to converse with him in her usual way.

Lucius kept one eye on the timepiece on the wall, and as the time for the meal approached, he turned to Jane and said, "I have a surprise for you for dinner. I hope you will enjoy it. Do you trust me?"

"Trust you, Lucius? What do you mean?"

"Will you permit me to blindfold you so that I can prolong the surprise? I will be very gentle, I promise."

Jane looked uncertain, then, intrigued, she agreed. Lucius led her to the table. He produced a length of black silk, showed it to her, and then wrapped it round her eyes. "Can you see, Jane?" "No, Sir."

Lucius then took a large creamy damask napkin, and arranged it around Jane's neck in the way one would protect a child's clothing at mealtimes, tying it at the back. "I see that you are wearing a very lovely silk tonight, Jane, and I would not wish you to spoil it, so please allow me to tie your napkin so," he said as he did it. He placed a second napkin on her lap. He then took her hand, and sat beside her, for the two dining chairs had been arranged so that they were either side of a corner of the small table. Lucius waited patiently for the house elves, talking quietly to Jane all the while, aware that a blindfold can be very disorienting. He could tell she was no longer quite so tense, her interest had been piqued.

The house elves entered, arranged the food on the table, and left. Lucius watched Jane inhaling deeply, and wondered if she had guessed what he was about to serve her. "Open your mouth, Jane," he instructed, and placed a morsel of food on her tongue. He held his breath. There was a risk that he had guessed wrongly, and she would hate it -he had a back-up menu arranged just in case. Jane chewed, and swallowed. A huge smile appeared on her face.

"A mussel! I love mussels, how did you know?"

"I didn't, I took a gamble," replied Lucius, as he stood behind Jane's chair and carefully removed her blindfold without ruffling her hair. Lucius had thought long and hard about what to feed Jane. Oysters had occurred to him, with their aphrodisiac reputation: but that seemed too crass and obvious, and he was not sure if she would like raw shellfish. But then he had a brainwave: Jane had lived in Brussels, and his culinary memories of Brussels, apart from the ubiquitous _pommes frites_, were of delicious seafood. Mussels! He would serve her _moules mariniere_, to remind her of her temporary home.

Jane could now see the huge pewter bucket of mussels gently steaming in the centre of the table, with a platter of sliced crusty French baguette beside it, and a large bowl of crisp salad. "Eat!" commanded Lucius. He could not have made a better choice, for it is impossible to be over genteel when eating shellfish with one's fingers. Jane helped herself, using an empty mussel shell to pick the next mussel from its blue carapace, unpretentiously enjoying herself, ignoring the liquor that ran down her chin, and using the bread to soak up the delicious wine sauce. Lucius also noted with approval that Jane was happy to accept a glass or two of crisp, chilled white wine as an accompaniment, and she laughed when their hands collided in the shellfish bucket. He watched her carefully, to ensure that she did not accidentally overindulge in the unaccustomed alcohol, but encouraged her to take just enough to release her inhibitions.

When the contents of the bucket had been devoured, Lucius smiled at Jane, watching her rinse her fingers in the fingerbowl. He then wiped her mouth and chin with her napkin, removed it from her neck, and leaned over and kissed her deeply, tasting the _moules_ and the wine on her tongue. She responded willingly.

"Now, my sweet Jane, would you like a dessert?" Lucius said this in such a way that Jane looked at him in slight confusion.

"Lucius, are you teasing me? Is there a dessert, or – are **you** the dessert?"

Lucius pulled her closer, kissed her once more, and traced his fingers around the sweetheart neckline. She shivered slightly. "Ah, my sweet Jane. Yes, I am teasing you a little. There are three choices: we may eat dessert now; we may have each other for dessert now; or we may have each other for dessert, and then eat dessert afterwards. What would you like to do, my sweet girl? This night is for you, so you may choose. If you are not yet ready for love, we may also sit a while longer by the fire. What will you?" He slid his fingers just inside the neckline of her dress, and waited for her reaction.

Jane took a deep breath. "Lucius, I would like you for dessert. Please." Her eyes were huge, as if she could not believe her own boldness. Lucius almost smirked. He stood, helped Jane to her feet, opened the study door, and then swept her into his arms, and carried her up the stairs.

In his bedroom, Lucius set Jane down on a sofa. He saw her eyes turn towards the bed, and suddenly she began to tremble again. Lucius closed the door, and came to sit beside her. He took her hands in his, noticing that they too were shaking, and were cold to the touch.

"Look at me, Jane," he said softly. Almost reluctantly, Jane gazed up at him with enormous eyes through her lashes.

"Do you trust me, Jane?" he asked her once more.

"Yes, Sir."

"Jane, you do not have to do this. I told you, you may change your mind at any time. Do you want to go home?"

"N-n-no, Sir."

"You are afraid. Are you afraid of me?"

Jane looked unsure how to answer this. Lucius waited patiently. Then he said, "Tell me if I am wrong. You are a little afraid of me, but mainly because you are afraid of what we are about to do. Are you afraid of being hurt?"

Jane nodded, reluctantly. "They say it hurts, the first time."

Lucius nodded. "They do say so. I am not a woman, so I cannot say for certain, but I will tell you what I have seen. There are some for whom it does hurt, and some for whom it does not. But I believe two things: that it hurts less or not at all if one has a considerate lover; and that the pain is soon forgotten if the pleasure is great enough.

"Jane, don't worry. Allow me to give you this greatest of all pleasures. I will do my utmost to see that there is no pain. If I do anything you dislike, you must tell me. I will not be offended. Let us start slowly. We have all night. If in the end you decide against making love, it will be enough to have you lying in my arms. I am not such a beast that I cannot control my urges. We will do just as much and no more than you desire."

Jane nodded, her eyes wet with tears. Lucius slid an arm around her, and kissed her. He attempted nothing further than a deeply passionate embrace until he felt her relax again. Then he allowed his fingers to tease Jane around the neckline of her dress once more, and kissed her neck and shoulders. He felt her shiver, but this time with desire. Lucius then put his hand gently on one of Jane's breasts, feeling the warmth of her body through the fabric. He could tell that her nipple was already taut, and he flicked a fingertip across it. Jane's eyes opened wide in shocked response. He watched her carefully, but he could see that she did not want him to stop, for she thrust her breast into his hand, and moaned softly. Lucius himself was already hard, his manhood straining against his breeches, but he was happy to take it slowly, and savour each touch.

"Jane, may I undo your gown?" he asked her when they broke apart from the next kiss. She blushed, but nodded. She sat erect, and turned her back to him, in order to allow Lucius to undo the fastenings to her waist. He slid the dress off her shoulders, and as he did so, he kissed the back of her neck and shoulders and nuzzled her ear. He was a little surprised to see that Jane's torso was naked under her gown, although he had guessed as much from the prominence of her nipples. Nipping her shoulder gently with his teeth, Lucius whispered, "Well, well, Jane. There's a surprise! My virginal governess is wearing no bra! You shock me! And are you also similarly naked from the waist down?"

"No, Lucius, I am not quite so bold as that. I confess I chose not to wear a bra because I own nothing glamorous that would suit the occasion. Also – well I knew it would be removed anyway…" Jane giggled almost coquettishly, and turned to look at him over her shoulder, slightly uncertain. Lucius smiled widely in amusement. "Well answered!" he replied. He slid his arms slowly around her waist, and lifted them until he held a breast in each hand. He waited a moment, enjoying their weight and the feel of her young, silky skin. When Jane did not object, he played gently with her breasts while kissing her neck and shoulders, finally concentrating his fingers on her hard, erect nipples. In response, she sighed, pressing her nipples into his touch, and arching her neck so that he could kiss the hollow by her collar bone.

"Now Jane, turn and face me," commanded Lucius quietly, as he released her.

Jane did so, but she could not look at him, she was so embarrassed to sit before a man with her breasts naked. Lucius pulled her towards him, and kissed her again, waiting once more for the tension to leave her. Not until he felt her relax did he once more cup one of her breasts in his hand, savouring the feel of the soft, smooth skin and the hard nipple against his palm. He then drew back and looked at her approvingly. This time, she held his gaze, although she flushed prettily.

"Jane, do not be ashamed. You have beautiful breasts," said Lucius, running his fingers gently over the pink areolas surrounding her nipples. He bent down and took one nipple in his mouth, and was gratified to hear the sigh she gave in response. She held his head in her hands, stroking his silver hair, and leaned back against the cushions to allow him easier access. He then gave her second breast the same treatment, and asked her teasingly, "Did you like that?"

"Oh, yes. I never imagined it could feel that way!"

"And does it make you feel ready for more?"

"Yes, it creates such feelings in me. I do not know how to describe it."

"Stand up."

She stood. Her eyes never left his face: it seemed to be the one way she could control her embarrassment, to look into his grey eyes with hers. Lucius stood too. Jane was so small beside him, her head reached only to his chest. Lucius suddenly crushed her to him, and she too clung to him as if she would never let him go. He then released her, and looking over her shoulder, he finished unfastening the back of Jane's dress, and stood back from her, releasing her arms from around him. Her gown slid to the floor and lay in a mauve silken pool around her feet, while Jane, stepping out of her shoes and the fallen dress, stood before him, naked save for a pair of matching silk cami-knickers. Lucius was intrigued.

"Jane, may I ask why a woman who, according to her own admission, does not possess a bra glamorous enough for such an occasion as this, at the same time owns a pair of silk knickers that match her best dress, and seem very suitable indeed for such an occasion?" He put his head on one side, and looked at her, amused.

"It's simple, Lucius," replied Jane, smiling. "I bought a bolt of silk for the dressmaker to make the dress. There was a little left over. Rather than waste it, I had her make me a few pairs of cami-knickers from the remnant. I find the silk very comfortable against my skin, so it was thrift and comfort rather than glamour that guided me."

Lucius noted that this teasing altercation had distracted Jane from the fact that she was standing almost naked in front of a man. He drank in the sight of her before she remembered to be embarrassed. "Jane, you are beautiful unclothed," he told her. She blushed now, and tried to dismiss his remark. "Please Lucius, don't tease me. I know I am not beautiful. You once yourself called me plain."

Lucius shook his head. "No Jane, you are not plain at all. It was I who was blind. Of course, you did not help yourself, for you always dress in such a way as to hide your best assets, and you wear your hair hidden away too. But I see you now as nature intended. No, my dear, do not try to cover yourself with your hands, for your body is indeed beautiful. You are young, you have the smooth, soft skin of youth, your shape is so pleasing to the eyes, your hair is so much prettier worn that way. Stand tall, Jane, be proud of the way you are made."

He saw she was pleased by his words, but uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He relented, and took her hand. "Come to bed, Jane," he whispered. He wrapped her in his arms, one hand firmly on her behind, the other around her shoulders, and kissed her deeply once more. When he broke away, she was trembling again.

"Are you cold, Jane?"

"No, Sir. I am – I don't know…"

"Frightened still?"

"Only a little."

"Come to bed with me. Do you still want to?"

"Yes, Lucius."

He led her to the four-poster bed, and folded back the covers to reveal white silk sheets. She stood uncertainly, waiting. Lucius decided to act, and see if she objected. He knelt before her, and kissed her breasts again, drawing his nails caressingly across her back. Again he waited for Jane to relax into his touch, for her to respond and push herself towards him, then he moved his hands downwards, and smoothly slid her cami-knickers down to her ankles.

"Step out of them, Jane." She did so. Now Jane's face was crimson with confusion. Lucius did not want her to become too cold, so he resisted his immediate impulses, and guided her into the bed, firstly removing the warming pan that a house elf had placed there. He covered her, and turned away from her to remove his boots. He was about to remove his breeches, when Jane called to him gently.

"Lucius. Please, let me look at you. I want to see you too."

Lucius swallowed. He was still wearing his soft pale green cambric shirt. He turned to her. "May I make a request of you, Jane? Please allow me to keep on my shirt for the present. I promise I will show you later, but you understand, no woman has seen my scars since they were made. I am sorry, I cannot bear for you to see me just now. But you may see the lower part of my body. Of that I am not ashamed."

So saying, he came to stand by Jane's side, and unbuttoning his breeches, he removed them swiftly, and stood beside her. There was no hiding the fact that he was aroused, for his erection stood out proudly from the silver curls of his pubic hair. Jane gazed at it with undisguised curiosity. She put out her hand, then withdrew it, embarrassed. Lucius took her hand in his, and placed it firmly on his member. He sighed involuntarily as he felt her touch, Jane's cool fingers caressing his length, making him want to have her there and then. Jane looked up at his face. "Is that nice for you?" she asked him. Had another woman asked him this, it would have been a teasing remark, but Jane was genuinely curious: she really had no knowledge of the effect she was having on him.

"Jane, my dear, it is exceedingly nice – in fact you had better stop, or I will come in your hand here and now." He removed her hand, and moved to the other side of the bed to climb in beside her. He arranged himself with one arm around her, and began to explore Jane's naked body with his free hand. Any time he felt her tense up, he kissed her into limp submission, then moved to kiss her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. Eventually, he slipped his hand between her legs, to find that, as he had expected, Jane was slick with longing for him. He teased her around her vaginal opening for a while, whispering to her to open her legs wider, then slipped two fingers inside, sliding them in deeply, and curving them around to reach her G spot.

Jane was shocked, aroused, and embarrassed all at once. Lucius saw the confusion in her eyes. She did not know whether to tell him to stop, or to beg him not to. He smiled at her, and whispered, "Jane, do you want this?" at the same time massaging her G spot so that her body screamed at him to continue.

"Lucius, it hurts in a way, but it feels so wonderful at the same time. Is it supposed to feel like this? Lucius, is it – normal – to put your fingers inside me? I thought you were supposed to put your – er – yourself inside me?"

"Jane dearest, have no fear, relax, eventually I will put 'myself' inside you! Is it normal? Yes, it's perfectly normal, if you enjoy it. Ask yourself: which is the stronger feeling – hurting or enjoyment? If you do not like this, I will stop. You need only say the word."

"I think I like it – but it also leaves me feeling as if something is missing."

Lucius adjusted his hand so that he could both massage Jane's G spot with his fingers, and stroke her clitoris lightly with his thumb. "Is that what was missing?" But Jane was now really speechless, for she gasped loudly at his touch; but he could tell that she did not want him to stop, for she spread her legs far apart, and angled her hips so that he touched her even more accurately. Her breathing became ragged, she began to shake as her climax approached. Lucius kissed her nearest nipple, nipping it gently with his teeth, and continued his massaging, faster and faster. He felt that Jane was almost there, and concentrated on putting his fingers in just the right place at the right time. He smiled smugly to himself as she came hard against his hand, crying out involuntarily, her vaginal walls contracting around his fingers, her clitoris engorged, her body shuddering violently as her orgasm engulfed her whole concentration. He kept his fingers in place for a long time, then withdrew his hand, and wrapped her in both his arms. Her eyes were tightly shut, and he knew exactly where her stunned mind was. He allowed himself a small feeling of triumph, and waited patiently for Jane to cease her shaking and open her eyes.

Eventually, she looked at him. Her eyes were wet with tears once more. He had no need to ask her if she had enjoyed the experience, her body radiated sexual satisfaction. "Thank you," she whispered. "I never guessed it would be like that. It was wonderful."

"It is better with a partner than alone," he agreed. Then he looked at her again, and asked her wonderingly, "Jane, did you never pleasure yourself? Is this truly the first time you ever had an orgasm?"

"Yes, Lucius, this was truly my first time for everything. But Lucius, what about.." she stopped in confusion, for she could not think of the words.

"What about full sexual intercourse, is what you mean, I believe?" replied Lucius gravely, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes."

"Do you still want it?"

"I want you to be happy too. It seems unfair that I … while you…."

"Yes, indeed. Unhappy is the man who is left frustrated." He was laughing at her now, but not unkindly. "Jane, some women like it too I believe," he added, "It is not designed only for the accommodation of men's insatiable lust."

Jane was laughing too now, he was pleased to see. He did not wish her to tense up again. "Well then!" he said, "Let's do it! Open your legs you wanton witch!"

Giggling still, Jane lay on her back, and opened her legs as commanded. Lucius knelt between her thighs. He took Jane's hand and placed it on his member, and showed her how to massage him so that he stiffened rapidly once more. When he was completely hard, he removed her hand, then guided himself slowly into her. She was so wet from her orgasm that he slid in easily. He buried himself deeply in Jane's welcoming body as far as he could, sighing at this feeling he had not enjoyed for so long. He supported himself on his elbows, and looked into Jane's face. "Well, my dear, is it as awful as you feared?"

"No, Lucius. It feels so nice. And it didn't hurt at all." She put her arms around him, sliding her hands under his shirt to stroke his back. Lucius winced slightly as she touched the tender skin of his scars, but made himself concentrate on the pleasure of her loving hands and the feeling of her tight vagina squeezing his manhood.

Lucius began to thrust himself into Jane, gently at first to gauge her reaction, then more rapidly as he saw her eyes close, and felt her body responding beneath him. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to expose herself further to him, and her hands gripped his back. She began to match him stroke for stroke as he built up his pace. Then he knew he was about to peak, and he exploded into her, pleasure engulfing his every sense. For a moment Jane lay still, then her body responded instinctively, and she gasped as she contracted around him in time with his own shudders, prolonging his climax. When Lucius was completely spent, he leered at her.

"You see, Miss Jane. There is more than one way to have an orgasm. I hope you enjoyed having double the pleasure?"

"Lucius, I didn't expect it at all. It was so different from the first time. Of course it was wonderful too, you know it was."

"Ah, my dear, you have a whole education in front of you. That is, if you like the methods of your teacher enough to employ him again."

"Lucius, I must be the luckiest woman in the world, to have you to teach me about this part of life. If there is more to learn, I think I could bear another lesson." Jane then pulled his head down, and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered. He made to pull out of her, but she said, timidly, "Please don't. I like it so. Stay with me."

They lay for a while, basking in their mutual delight, till nature took its course and separated them. Lucius then stood up, disappeared from Jane's view for a while, and returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. He indicated that she should clean herself with them. He knew how much of a surprise it was for some women that the act of love eventually resulted in the man's essence spilling over their inner thighs, or making their bed uncomfortably damp: it was obvious when it actually occurred, but it was so often ignored by the innocent's imagination.

When she felt fresh once more, Jane sat up in bed and watched Lucius as he set the bowl down on the washstand, and returned to her. She admired his long silver hair, catching the candlelight as he crossed the room; his legs with their long thigh bones, and the tiny silver hairs on his lower legs. His shirt now hid his shrunken manhood from view, and also his behind when he turned away from her. She wondered if he would keep his promise, and allow her to see all of him. He made as if to cross to the other side of the bed, but she put out her hand, and touched his arm.

"Lucius, please," she said, "I want to see you. I want to look at you. You said you would."

"Yes, I did," he agreed reluctantly. "So be it." Swiftly, as if he were afraid that if he hesitated, he would falter, Lucius removed his shirt over his head, and cast it aside onto a nearby chair. Then he stood before her, naked. Jane looked at him: so this was a man, unclothed as nature intended. She saw that he had broad shoulders, and a deep chest with a soft downy covering that she longed to stroke; but the hairs on his chest stopped abruptly as the fair skin abutted against taut, red, angry skin that shone unnaturally, matching the scar she had already seen on the right side of his face, disappearing into the hair that grew patchily on that side of his head. Lucius' bodily scarring was uneven in colour, looked sore to the touch, and covered most of the right side of his torso and much of his right arm. Jane's eyes were also drawn to the tattoo on his left arm: the Dark Mark, the proof that Lucius Malfoy had once been a notorious Death Eater. Jane shivered a little at the thought.

Lucius turned around slowly to show her the rear view: the scarring was worse here, and looked even angrier, covering most of his upper back. But Jane was less interested in the scars than in Lucius' buttocks: she thought that he had the most beautiful bottom, and she wanted to stroke and squeeze it.

"Come here, please, Lucius," she said. "Close by me."

He came to stand beside her. She saw the uncertainty on his face, his fear of rejection. She reached out her arms, encircled his pelvis, and indulged herself completely by taking one buttock in each hand, and rubbing her face in the hairs on his chest. "You have a beautiful behind, Lucius," she told him. Then she looked at him seriously. "Lucius, the scars are nothing. You could still have any woman you wanted. Miss Chang would still want you if she saw you this way. Any woman to whom you made love as you made love to me tonight would still want you. Everyone has some imperfection. You have blown up your injury out of all proportion to the reality of the situation. You are still a very attractive man."

Lucius sighed. "Perhaps you are right, Jane. But I told you, I am a vain man. I cannot yet accept myself this way. But I can perhaps learn to see things differently if I try to see through your eyes. I am truly grateful that you see me as you do. You have a beautiful mind, Jane, to think of me in that way."

He walked around the bed, and climbed in beside her. They snuggled together, both enjoying the sensuous feeling of skin upon skin.

"Now," said Lucius, "You have another choice to make. Dessert? Or sleep? Or we can lie here for a while and then make love again? Or we can just see what happens…"


	9. Chapter 9

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 9**

Just over a week later, Draco Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace in the cold, unused drawing room of Malfoy Manor, and shook himself in disgust. He was covered in soot, his trip had been less than ideal. It had been necessary to take a diversion due to various chimney repairs along the London orbital route, and his journey had been both longer and dirtier than he had planned. He had been travelling for many hours, initially apparating in stages to cover the distance between the south of France and the north. Then when Draco had become weary, he had changed to the floo network, for apparition requires complete concentration to avoid the danger of splinching, and should never be done if a wizard is overtired. But now he was home again from Provence, it was not long after midnight, and he wanted nothing more than a hot bath and his bed. Draco rang the bell beside the fireplace to summon a house elf.

He climbed the stairs, and made straight for the bathroom. He was not really paying attention in the semi-darkness, the landing was lit only by a few candle lanterns containing night lights. As he approached the bathroom door, he realised it was shut, and he saw a light around the edge, showing that the room was occupied. He was about to turn away and go to the bathroom at the other end of the landing, when the door opened, and out walked a young woman. She was wearing a black silk dressing gown that Draco recognised as his father's, but she was obviously not expecting to meet anyone, for she wore it open, the belt hanging loose. Draco was greeted by the unexpectedly attractive sight of a pair of pert breasts with nipples semi-erect from exposure to the air, the pleasing curves of a female belly and hips, and a pair of shapely legs, the dark triangle of the woman's pubic hair plainly visible against her smooth white skin. Her face he noticed not at all when confronted with such pretty bodily nakedness.

Draco smiled, and said, "Well, well! So he's back in the saddle again at last! Hello, I'm the son, Draco Malfoy."

The young woman stared at Draco in horror, gave a sound between a whimper and a sob, gathered the dressing gown closely around her, and rushed off without a word in the direction of Lucius' room. Draco gazed after her, slightly bemused by her reaction.

The following morning, Draco walked slowly downstairs, yawning. He felt much better today following a good night's rest in his own bed, hastily remade with fresh linen by two house elves as he had taken his longed-for bath. He wondered where breakfast would be served. When he had left the country over a year ago, his father had been in such a permanent state of drugged drunkenness that he had missed many normal mealtimes, and when he did eat, it was usually in his study. Draco reached the entrance hall, and looked around for a house elf to ask. However, his nose seemed to be telling him that food was to be found in the morning room. He felt a pang: his mother had frequently enjoyed a late breakfast there, preferring to catch the rays of the morning sun when it shone, rather than eat alone in the dark, palatial formal dining room.

Draco entered the morning room, reminded once more that his mother was dead by the décor: he had forgotten momentarily that Cho Chang had redecorated the Manor. Lucius was seated at the table, and looked up as he entered. Draco saw he was expected, a place had been laid for him: no doubt the woman at the bathroom door had told Lucius of her encounter. She did not seem to be here herself, no other places had been laid: doubtless she was one of many again, and did not merit being offered breakfast.

"Good morning, Draco," said Lucius, "This is an unexpected pleasure. You did not warn me you were planning to return. Sit down. You need to order your breakfast from the house elves. I stopped having a buffet selection when I was left here alone. But there is fresh coffee here if you would like some."

Draco greeted his father cautiously in return as he sat at the table, and helped himself to a cup of the proffered coffee. He surreptitiously eyed his father to see what kind of state he was in. He had been told by his correspondents that Lucius had stopped the heavy drinking and the laudanum, and he was pleased to see that this appeared to be the case. If one ignored his scarred face, his father looked healthier and happier now than he had for three years.

Lucius then said, "Draco, I wish you had not said what you did to my companion last night. She was very embarrassed indeed. She would not stay to meet you properly, she refused to eat breakfast and left very early."

Draco's reply was delayed by ordering his meal from an obsequious house elf, giving him a little time to get over his surprise. In general, Lucius shouted or growled his rebukes at his son, this mild expression of displeasure was completely out of character. He wondered at the idea of being introduced to one of his father's paramours over breakfast. This situation had never arisen before: firstly of course, his mother had been alive, and then after an unseemly short period of time, Cho Chang had moved into the Manor as Lucius' consort. Therefore breakfasting openly in the Manor with a lover had always been out of the question. He was also surprised by what Lucius had said about the woman's reaction to his flippant remark.

"Embarrassed at what I said?" he asked his father cautiously. "I wasn't rude to her. I know she was upset, I thought she was just surprised to see me."

Lucius gave his son a pained look. "I know you did not intend to be rude," he replied. "It was indeed not your fault that you frightened her. But she is very shy. Your remark made her feel – well, as if you thought she was a woman of easy virtue."

Draco looked at his father in disbelief. "Who is she?" he asked incredulously. "How on earth have you found yourself someone so sensitive? It's not your style at all. Some of your other women even used to proposition me, not run away like frightened virgins."

Lucius' expression became inscrutable. "I'll thank you not to discuss her in that manner," he said in a voice like ice. "All you need to know is that she is a respectable witch of good family. Now," his voice softening again, "Let us change the subject. Is there a particular reason that you have decided to come home now, or have you merely concluded your Grand Tour? Tell me where you have been and what you have seen. The last time I heard from you, you were in Venice. You look very well, by the way. Travel must suit you."

"You look very well yourself," replied Draco, "Much better than when I left."

"That would not be difficult. I had become a self-indulgent wreck, I admit it. But I have stopped taking laudanum altogether now, and have enough self control only to take a whisky now and again, and actually to savour the taste instead of merely swallowing it to get drunk." Draco noted silently to himself that his father's temper had also mellowed considerably.

"I came home for two reasons," he said, "First, I think I have finished my Grand Tour. I finally reached Venice, and met some of their greatest wizards. I wish that England had defended her witches and wizards the way that the Venetians did so long ago when we were all persecuted and forced into our present way of life."

"Indeed!" replied Lucius, "You do well to remember the historical outrages performed by Muggles against the magical world. So many of our womenfolk suffered at their hands. There was a time when many a pure blood wizard could not find a witch to marry, so many had been put to death in various barbaric ways in the name of their bloodthirsty god. 'Suffer not a witch to live,' they said, claiming it was stated thus in the book they slavishly followed.

"Yet you tired of Venice, witch bride of the sea, even with its special magical community? We are a higher percentage of the population there than anywhere else in Europe, because one of our own was once a Doge of the city, and refused to allow our persecution. How so? I thought you would tarry there a good while longer. My old friend Stregone would have been happy to accommodate you for as long as you wished."

"I was not exactly tired of Venice," said Draco, still wondering at his father's moderate tones. By now, they would normally have been at loggerheads: in the past it had been virtually impossible to speak to Lucius without incurring his wrath in some way after a very short conversation. "Stregone sends you greetings by the way. I was sorry to leave his house. I liked Venice very much indeed, yes it is a magical city. I didn't leave because I was weary of the place, but because I had a reason to return to Provence." Draco's fair skin was now a little flushed, and Lucius looked at him searchingly.

"I wasn't alone in Venice," continued Draco, "I had a companion from Provence with me, who enjoyed the city as much as I did. We travelled there together, not only to see the Venetian lagoon, but also to see whether or not we would still like each other as much if we spent more time alone together."

"Ah," said Lucius, "_Cherchez la femme! _Who is she, Draco?"

"She is Gabrielle Delacour. She's very beautiful. She's very blonde, like mother was." Draco produced a photograph. Lucius looked at the picture of a young woman with long white-blonde hair, like his own had been before it turned silver. She smiled out of the photo, in which she sat on a garden seat, and blew a kiss to the camera, then laughed and waved the photographer away. Her beauty was apparent, but there was more: Lucius felt an attraction to her that far superseded what one would normally expect from her appearance.

"Delacour? I know the name."

"Yes. Her sister Fleur was in the Triwizard Tournament when I was still at school. They both went to Beauxbatons. Gabrielle was brought to Hogwarts to be placed in the lake for Fleur to rescue for the second task of the tournament."

Lucius suddenly glared at Draco. "Just a minute," he said, "Fleur Delacour? She had a relationship with the eldest Weasley boy, did she not?"

"Yes," replied Draco, but then he added swiftly, "But it didn't last. They were supposed to marry, but Fleur called it off. I understand Bill Weasley was very upset indeed," he finished with a maliciously gleeful smirk.

Lucius smirked too. "Ah, so she finally saw the error of her ways. No doubt she realised her offspring would probably have red hair and vacant expressions. I take it you are planning to marry this girl? I would have been most annoyed if you had been about to become the brother-in-law of a Weasley! They are related to us far too closely as it is through numerous marriages! But tell me about the Delacours. Are they pure blood?"

Draco had been dreading this question. He knew that Lucius would be bound to enquire about Gabrielle's bloodline. His fear showed on his face. He saw Lucius' expression change in an instant. "Draco," he said in a voice far more like his old self, "What is this woman? You haven't taken up with a Mudblood have you?"

"No, Father. Both her parents are wizarding folk. Her father is pure blood. Also, the Delacours are well known in the French wizarding world, they can trace their ancestry back to the days of the Norman conquest. Gabrielle's mother is a witch, and her mother's father is a wizard. His family has a long wizarding history too." Draco avoided his father's eyes and swallowed. "Gabrielle's second grandmother is a Veela."

He waited for the explosion. Lucius hated half-breeds, with a special venom reserved for the spawn of giants, such as that lumbering idiot Hagrid. He had never heard his father speak about Veela, but Draco assumed that they would fall into the same category. This could be even worse than having a Muggle for a grandparent in Lucius' eyes.

Draco forced himself to look at Lucius. His father's face was more thoughtful than angry. "Well?" he asked, unable to bear the tension anymore.

"Veela you say? Well that explains the irresistible attraction I felt from the photo. I think – yes, I think that a Veela grandmother is something I could accept. Veela are, after all, undoubtedly superbly magical females, and in no way related to Muggles. Veela and wizards have been spouses frequently throughout history, and have produced some of the most beautiful and powerfully magical offspring. Draco, my son, I provisionally give the union my blessing. But I would like to meet Miss Delacour for myself first before I give my final approval."

Draco was of age, and had no need for his father's permission to do anything, having already formally approached Monsieur Delacour for his daughter's hand in marriage, but he refrained from mentioning this, his relief was so great at Lucius' reaction. This relief was also because he now had no need to use the argument that he had stored away in case of his father's objection to the marriage: the fact that Cho Chang had one Muggle grandfather, and thus his little half-sister was therefore not pure blood herself.

This thought reminded him to enquire after Bryony. Lucius smiled fondly, and Draco wondered if Lucius had ever smiled in the same way over him when he was a young child. He had been very jealous at first to see Lucius the doting father when Bryony was born, for he could not recall ever having been the object of such affection himself. But Bryony unaccountably loved Draco unreservedly in spite of his attempts to rebuff her, and she had soon won him over with her sweet personality. He too now smiled when he asked about her.

"She has started her education," Lucius informed his son, "So I see less of her than before. She now has a governess."

"I'd like to see her. She must have grown since I went away."

"I'm sure you'll see a change, children grow fast at that age. She will like to see you too. She has often asked after you since you left, and she is always eager for news of you. If she recognised an owl from you, she always demanded that I read the message to her. She especially liked those photos you sent from different places. I believe Miss Currer has helped her to arrange them in an album."

"Miss Currer is her governess?"

"Yes. She lives at Gildenford Hall. Bryony likes her very much. Her lessons are until two o'clock each weekday. If you wish to visit her, you could go this afternoon."

So at two o'clock, Draco apparated in the grounds of Gildenford Hall, was admitted to the house, and asked to see his sister. He was led to the schoolroom by a house elf, and was about to open the door when it was opened from the inside. He found himself face to face with a rather plain and severely dressed young woman, who was so startled by his appearance that she blushed deeply.

"I'm sorry to shock you. I just got back from Provence last night, and wanted to see my sister. I assume you're Miss Currer? Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand. The young woman took it, and shook it as a reflex action, but seemed unable to speak. She stared at him like a frightened fawn. However, Miss Currer's small charge had heard her brother's voice, and a loud squeal assailed Draco's ears. Miss Currer was suddenly pushed impatiently aside by Bryony Chang as she rushed to greet Draco. Her brother bent down and swept her up in his strong arms, hugged her fiercely, and then set her back on her feet. Both were utterly delighted to see each other, both wore equally wide smiles. Bryony spoke rapidly, not waiting for Draco to reply, and then pulled him into the schoolroom to show off her album of Draco's travel photos.

Neither noticed that Jane Currer had slipped quietly away.

* * *

_**Note:**_

_It is true that Venice protected its citizens from accusations of witchcraft during the Spanish Inquisition. This was primarily because the property of a condemned witch was confiscated: half was given to the Church, and the rest divided between the judge and the prosecutors (who were primarily clergy or inquisitors). _

_Venice, as a self-governing city state, was very protective of its citizens' property rights, and its Council refused to allow the Inquisition to confiscate property in this way. Only Venice in the whole of Europe defied the church on this point, and established a treaty with the Pope so that the property of a condemned witch was retained within the family._

_This resulted in a reduction in the number of accusations of witchcraft, leading to the suspicion that many false accusations were made in order to acquire property._

_The Church passed heretics condemned to death to the secular authorities for execution. In 1521 the Senate of Venice refused to approve such executions. Venice felt its own power undermined when its citizens were tried by what it viewed as a foreign court. Later, the state of Venice took over witchcraft trials, but the penalties were less. Conviction could instead mean public humiliation and more severe penalties such as banishment._

_A wizard as Doge of Venice is entirely my own invention._


	10. Chapter 10

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 10**

Narcissa Malfoy's last portrait still hung in her old bedchamber on the wall opposite the turquoise blue bed. This was the only portrait in the unused room, and Narcissa felt lonely sometimes. But she did not ask to be placed elsewhere, for she felt at home here, and for the most part was content with her own company. Furthermore, when visitors called she had their undivided attention, and no one could hear the conversations she had with them. These visitors were fairly frequent: Lucius confided in her often and asked her advice; Bryony came to stare at Narcissa's beauty and chatter about matters both inconsequential and serious; Draco came because he missed her still, and wished to soothe the ache in his heart and remind himself of her.

But Draco had not been for so long now: he had said farewell months ago, and left for a Grand Tour of the continent. However, rumours travelled quickly around the house portraits. Narcissa had two other portraits at Malfoy Manor that she visited when the loneliness became unbearable: a wedding likeness in the Long Gallery with the other Malfoy family portraits, and another painting amongst the collection of miniatures in the dining room. Bedchamber Narcissa had not seen him for herself, but her miniature had told her that Draco had come home again last night: she had seen him emerging, travel weary, from the fireplace.

Narcissa was therefore surprised and a little hurt when her son did not come to see her on his first full day back at home. But two days later, the sound of the bedroom door opening roused her from her reverie, and she turned to see who the visitor might be. Draco entered, but he was not alone. She looked with great curiosity at his companion, for it was a young woman, and Narcissa could feel a strong power emanating from her

The two of them came to stand before her, and Draco spoke: "Hello, Mother. It's good to see you again. I'm back from my Grand Tour."

"So I see, Draco. You look very well." She refrained from enquiring why he had not called on her sooner, as she saw the way he looked at the young woman. Narcissa smiled at her.

"Mother, this is Gabrielle. We plan to marry, and so I brought her to meet you."

Gabrielle tossed her elegant head, and her mane of white-blonde hair shimmered as it moved. "_Bonjour, Madame_," she said, smiling and curtseying gracefully in a manner that Narcissa recognised as very Beauxbatons. "I am so 'appy to meet you. Draco 'as told me so much about you."

Gabrielle and Narcissa exchanged pleasantries, and then the three of them discussed the couple's wedding plans. The event was to take place in spring, but they had not yet decided whether to marry in England or France. They were to live at Malfoy Manor – Lucius had offered them a suite of rooms for their own exclusive use - but would maintain a French property too, for frequent visits to Gabrielle's family.

As the conversation drew to a natural close, Narcissa turned to Draco, and said to him, "Draco, would you mind if Gabrielle and I had a few words in private? Please indulge your mother's fancy, and leave us alone together for a few minutes."

Draco looked surprised, but left the room readily enough. The two women now regarded each other far more seriously, each scrutinising the other, weighing up the strength of the witch opposite. Each seemed to be waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, Narcissa broke the silence, speaking in French:

"You are part Veela. The power is strong in you, I feel it. Tell me what you see."

Gabrielle replied in French, "I feel the presence of a force greater than both of us. It draws me to you. You carry an artefact of great power. It could destroy us all if it is used in malice or for gain. Yet I feel a disconnection between you and this magical object. This last I do not understand."

"It is because I am dead. The artefact requires a living guardian. No, do not look alarmed, for it has chosen a new guardian already. But she is yet a child, so for now I keep the artefact safe for her, until her time shall come.

"But how much can you see? Can you tell what is this object that I keep hidden? The powers of a Veela are unknown to me."

"I cannot see anything," replied Gabrielle, "I merely feel that you have a uniquely magical object. The disturbance in the flux around you shows that you are its Secret Keeper, but does not reveal to me what you are holding. It does show the peril into which we could all be plunged should the object ever be misused.

"And as you are a Secret Keeper, I trust that your family is unaware of its existence?"

"Draco knows nothing at all. Lucius knows what I hold, for it killed me, and he discovered it with my body when I died; but he is aware of only a fraction of the power of this object. He will not speak of its existence: there are many ties that bind his tongue on this matter.

"But there is one other. Has Draco spoken to you of his sister?"

"His little sister, Bryony? Yes, he plans to take me to see her tomorrow." Gabrielle looked at Narcissa, and a flash of understanding passed between the two women.

"Ah, so it is she," Gabrielle stated simply.

When Gabrielle had gone, Narcissa pondered, wondering if the Subtle Knife possessed powers beyond even her own knowledge gained from the lore of centuries. Could it influence the minds of wizards who were unaware of its existence? For she could not believe that the presence in Malfoy Manor of a young woman in possession of Veela powers was a mere coincidence.

For did not the Knife itself bear the twin images of a Veela?

* * *

Bryony Chang did not concentrate very well on her lessons today. Miss Currer knew the reason: her small charge was excited at the thought of seeing her adored brother again, and not only that, but he was to bring with him a French witch who was his fiancée. Jane understood Bryony's impatience and lack of interest in her work, and forbore from chiding her pupil. In the end, she allowed Bryony to draw rather than study, which required less than her full attention, and meant that the child could chatter at the same time about the expected meeting. The conversation was very one-sided, but Bryony was too young and too single-minded to notice Miss Currer's reticence.

For her part, Jane was very ambivalent about encountering young Mr Malfoy once more. Two days ago he had barely given her a second glance, for which she had been extremely grateful. Lucius had told her frequently that she kept her best assets hidden away, and she was glad that she had not decided to alter her outward appearance at Gildenford Hall, for this had meant that in Draco Malfoy's eyes, she had effectively been invisible. But she dreaded him looking at her more carefully, and realising that he had seen her almost naked.

It had taken a great deal of courage to give in to her desire for Lucius, and allow him to make a woman of her. She would never regret it, for he had opened up a whole new world of possibilities for her; she for whom the pleasures of the flesh had previously been a mystery shrouded in whispered rumour. Lucius had obviously not regretted the experience either, for he had persuaded her to pay him a second nocturnal visit, with the promise of more "lessons" from her self-appointed teacher.

It had taken much less courage to visit Malfoy Manor that second time, and Lucius had shown her once more that he understood her body and its secret desires far better than its owner. Jane had been slightly shocked when Lucius' kisses had continued slowly downwards, and he had then used his lips and his tongue on her most intimate parts, for she had never dreamed that anyone could do such a thing; but following her initial exclamation of surprise, when he had asked her if she wished him to stop, blushing deeply Jane had told him no; for the feelings were so pleasurable she never wanted him to stop. Even now, she grew hot thinking of his tongue massaging her to an ecstatic climax, and felt an answering twinge between her legs.

But later that night had followed that embarrassing meeting with Draco, and his joking words, hinting that she was but one of Lucius' many mistresses; and the unspoken words too: that he would also like to have her. Jane did not know how to respond to such badinage, she was unused to such sly, worldly hints, and her instinct was to shy away, and avoid the man who caused such confusion in her mind.

Two o'clock came. Books, parchment, quills and Muggle colouring pens had been tidied away. Bryony had washed her hands to remove the ink, and Jane had inspected the small witch to see that she was clean, neat and presentable. They did not have long to wait before the expected knock on the door. It opened, and in strode the younger Malfoy, accompanied by an elegant young woman with long white-blonde hair. Bryony could not wait, she ran to greet them, and monopolised the attention of both guests with her smiles and her chatter. She presented Mademoiselle Delacour with a drawing she had just made especially for her, a childish but recognisable picture of a colourful bride and groom. Gabrielle was suitably gracious to the proud artist, and kissed her on both cheeks in thanks, delighting Bryony.

For her part, Gabrielle was charmed by Draco's sister, and remarked on the child's difference from her beau. "She is so dark, Draco, but ze rest of your family are all so blonde. And when will I meet 'er muzzer again? I wonder if she will remember me after so much time?"

Draco looked embarrassed. He had not considered meeting Cho Chang because he mainly chose not to think about her at all. He now saw that this could look very odd indeed to his fiancée. However, Gabrielle was no fool, and changed the subject by asking Bryony to take them around the garden, as the weather was so good today.

As the three of them left to go downstairs, not one of them noticed that Jane Currer had once more slipped away unremarked.

* * *

Cho was busy in her tiny fitting room at Cho's Chic. Before her, arms held rigidly out from her sides, stood Minerva McGonagall, wearing a calico mock-up of a long tailored jacket, bristling with pins. Cho stood back, critically surveyed her handiwork, and asked the Professor to please turn around slowly. The Head Teacher of Hogwarts complied, her straight back belying her age.

Cho had been a little surprised to see her in the shop, for she remembered her former teacher's own idiosyncratic style, mainly consisting of a variety of green tartan robes; also she was not known to be particularly rich. However, Professor McGonagall had an important position of authority, and a businesslike appearance was expected in these changing times, plus she had recently been awarded a clothing allowance by the governors: so here she was, spending the whole of this year's allowance on one well-styled garment that she hoped would serve her for many years. Acknowledging the Professor's penchant for tartan, Cho had persuaded her to consider a jacket in Rob Roy black and red, as worn by the famous poet Topaz McGonagall, who was her ancestor. Minerva McGonagall had been unsure at first, so attached was she to her familiar green, but Cho had lain a swatch of fabric over her shoulder, and shown the older witch in the mirror how flattering the colour was for her. She had also pointed out that red was one of the Gryffindor House colours, whereas green was a Slytherin colour. These two facts, and Cho's reputation as a designer and tailor, had convinced the Professor, formerly head of Gryffindor, to accept Cho's suggestion.

Cho was just opening her mouth to speak, when there was a knock at the door, and she heard Alan's voice: "Cho, I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's very urgent. Can I open the door?" Cho opened it from the inside, to see Alan standing there with one of the Gildenford Hall house elves by his side, gazing anxiously at Cho with huge green eyes: it was Bryony's nursemaid.

The elf, obviously distressed, spoke immediately: "Oh, Mistress, Nanny has terrible news! Little Miss is hurt, very bad! Little Miss is in hospital, and Nanny is sent to fetch her mother. Mistress must come now!"

Cho's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment she stood there rooted to the spot. But then she recovered, and turned to her customer. Professor McGonagall responded by saying, "Go at once! Now! Clothes can wait!" Cho did not need telling twice, and as she disapparated, the last thing she saw was Alan, the Professor and Nanny all watching her, their faces almost as white as her own.

* * *

**Notes**:

_1._ _**The Subtle Knife** is borrowed from Philip Pullman's _His Dark Materials_ trilogy. It was first introduced in Chapter 10 of _The Female of the Species_, where my version of Pullman's knife is described in more detail._

_2. **William Topaz McGonagall** was a real Scottish poet, famous for his terrible poetry, especially _The Tay Bridge Disaster_. With a name like Topaz, I just had to make him into a wizard! He wore the Rob Roy tartan at least once for a formal occasion. JKR is believed to have borrowed his name for the professor, so making him her ancestor is quite appropriate._


	11. Chapter 11

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 11**

At St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Cho was greeted by a dark haired Healer in lime green robes, who immediately took her to a single-bedded side ward where she saw Bryony, looking very small and deathly pale, lying in a bed too large for her. Jane Currer was sitting anxiously by the bedside, and instantly leapt to her feet when she saw Cho.

Cho turned to the Healer with a questioning look. "Please tell me what's wrong with my daughter. I haven't been told anything at all yet."

"She has been poisoned," said the Healer, who introduced herself as Madam Luxor, Healer-in-Chief of the Potion and Plant Poisoning Ward. Cho gasped. The Healer shook her head. "I'm sorry, I should have said she poisoned herself. Your daughter has been eating laburnum peas. We don't know how many she ate before Miss Currer saw what she was doing. The poison acted too quickly to ask Bryony herself. She's gravely ill at the moment. But Miss Currer acted very quickly, and brought her here immediately, so she has the best chance of recovery in the circumstances."

Cho felt she could not absorb what was being said to her. "Gravely ill?" she asked, then, "Do you mean she could - die?" For Cho knew that ingesting laburnum peas could kill a child.

Madam Luxor did not answer directly, but instead said, "We're doing everything we can. She's in the best possible place." Cho recognised this as the standard Healer way of putting the best possible interpretation on matters. She barely had time to digest these words before she looked up to see Lucius being shown into the ward by a Mediwitch. He took one look at his daughter, looking so weak and vulnerable against the white sheets, and then turned to Madam Luxor: she repeated her explanation to Lucius. Cho saw him blanch as he realised the seriousness of the situation.

Lucius seemed dumbstruck as he went to Bryony's bedside and looked down at her. The black hair spilling over the pillow accentuated the whiteness of his darling daughter's face. His legs seemed to collapse beneath him as he sat down suddenly on a convenient chair. Then Lucius tore his eyes away from his child, and looked across the bed at Jane, standing opposite him, unconsciously wringing her hands.

"How did it happen?" he asked her, in a voice raw with emotion, then, more savagely, "Who was with her?"

Jane spoke, her voice barely audible. "I was." She swallowed. In a voice ridden with guilt, she continued, "We were in the walled garden. You know how much Bryony loves it there. I often sit and let her run about, and she will fetch me if she wants to show me something, or if she gets bored alone. She knows what plants she must not touch, both Professor Granger and I have told her so often not to pick anything from the physic garden or the potion beds.

"The gardener was there today. He was harvesting some of the vegetables from the kitchen garden. He told Bryony that the last of the peas were ready for picking, and she offered to help collect them. She knows what to do, she did it last year too. He gave her a trug, and she went off to pick peas. She likes to eat raw peas straight from the pod, so we knew she would be busy for some while.

"We fell into conversation, and I was not watching Bryony all the time. Whenever I looked over at her, she was busy with the pea plants. Then I looked, and I thought she had gone. I was about to search for her, when Neville – that's the gardener - who is taller than me, said that he could see Bryony crouched on the ground next to the vegetable patch. We rushed over to her, and saw she was vomiting. She managed to tell me she felt very dizzy and sick, but she could hardly speak, her mouth was so swollen, and I could see she was losing consciousness. We couldn't understand what had happened to her, because all we could see was a trug full of pea pods, and some discarded empty pods on the ground where she had helped herself to the contents. Then Neville picked up the trug, and looked more carefully: he found that some of the pods were different, they were laburnum pods. Then we realised that some of the empty pods were laburnum pods too, and Bryony must have eaten the laburnum peas. We both knew then that she was seriously ill, so I arranged that she was brought straight here, and Neville went to see Madam Chang to report what had happened."

Cho had been listening to this report in silence. She stated, in a voice barely above a whisper, "But the laburnum tree is in the corner of the walled garden, nowhere near the kitchen garden. I remember we were told it was planted there so that there should be no danger of any child eating laburnum peas instead of edible peas."

It was Lucius who, after a short period of silence, said, "But there have been unseasonably high winds recently, have there not? Perhaps therein lies the explanation?" Cho gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth.

Jane and Cho's eyes met over Bryony's sickbed, each of them registering the truth of this statement. For a split second, relief showed on Jane's face at this revelation: for if it were mischance, this accident was therefore not something for which she could be blamed; but immediately this was followed by the return of the haunted, guilty look she had been wearing: for how dare Jane feel relief when her pupil lay fighting for her life beside her?

Cho took the seat beside Lucius, and without thinking, she held out her hand to him, and equally automatically, he took it in his, and the pair sat, staring at the face of their daughter, supporting each other in their mutual pain and helplessness.

Jane saw this small yet significant gesture, and felt a stab in her heart: for here were the parents of the child whom she taught on a daily basis, and however much Jane cared for Bryony, and even more for Bryony's father, the tiny witch was Cho's child and not hers. Jane did not know what she should now do. She had acted as she ought in the face of a medical emergency, and she could do no more. Now she felt as if she were intruding on something private and intimate. Was it more appropriate for her to go, or would it appear heartless to do so?

Lucius it was who saved her. As if feeling her awkwardness, he turned to her, and said gently, "Miss Currer, I thank you for your prompt action. There is no necessity for you to remain here any longer. I suggest you return to Gildenford Hall. Be assured that we shall contact you as soon as there is any change in Bryony's condition."

Jane inclined her head in acknowledgement, and left silently as was her wont.

Lucius and Cho sat side by side united in their worry. Silent tears began to flow down Cho's face, and Lucius did not notice them until she gave a great sob. He put his arms around her and held her close, Cho crying so hard into his shoulder that she had trouble breathing. Eventually, the tears ceased, and Lucius wiped her face with a fresh handkerchief. They sat together in silence, Cho's head on Lucius' shoulder and his arm loosely around her. In this way they remained, hardly moving, as Healers and Mediwitches came and went, checking on Bryony, and leaving again with serious faces. They could see that she was barely breathing, and as it grew dark and the floating crystal bubbles were lit, great shadows around Bryony's eyes made her face look even more ghostly.

In the small hours of the morning, Madam Luxor came yet once more, and examined Bryony. This time she did not leave with a grave expression. Instead she turned to the waiting pair, and said, "This is the crucial time, when the body is at its lowest ebb. Bryony is much weaker now. There is a chance she may slip away at any time."

"Is there nothing more you can do?" asked Lucius, "Nothing you can try?"

"We do not have the skill here at St Mungo's, Mr Malfoy. In some of the continental hospitals, they have Veela Healers, but we have none in England."

Lucius' expression changed as this remark concentrated his full attention on the Healer. "Explain!" he said, "What can a Veela Healer do that you cannot?"

"The Veela have the power to intercede in the World Beyond. In their winged form they may speak to the Ba of a person on the cusp between life and death, for the Ba is also a winged entity. They may persuade the Ba to return to the land of the living. I see you are confused. I am sorry, I am Egyptian, I forget that you are unfamiliar with our beliefs. But the Veela of Europe also understand the concept: the Ba of a person is their essential essence, what makes them unique as a person, that part which carries on into the World Beyond after death; you may call it a soul. In our beliefs, the Ba is part bird, part human, and has the ability to visit the World Beyond even in life: for every night when we sleep, do we not undergo the little death? The Veela have a special connection to the world of the dead, for do not some Veela who have chosen the Dark Arts lure young, faithless men to their deaths? But Veela Healers have harnessed this power for the good, and may prolong life where it seems to them that a threatened death is untimely."

"Tell me two things," said Lucius, staring intently at the Healer, "Can this feat only be performed by a trained Healer, or does any Veela have the power? And does she have to be a pure blood Veela, or does a witch with part Veela blood have the ability too?"

Madam Luxor looked astonished, and Cho also looked at Lucius in slight disbelief, for obviously neither understood the reason for the questions. However, the Healer, perhaps recognising the couple's distress, forbore from remarking on the strangeness of Mr Malfoy's query, and replied, "Many Veela can do this, and that is why they elect to become Healers. But I have never yet met a witch able to intercede who was not a pure blood Veela."

"Nevertheless," said Lucius. "Our need is desperate. My son's fiancée is one quarter Veela. It is worth a try, is it not, to save the life of an innocent child?

"Miss Chang will remain here with our daughter. I shall be back as soon as possible."

Open-mouthed, Cho watched as Lucius strode purposefully out into the corridor, and disapparated with a loud crack.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 12**

At Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy and Gabrielle Delacour lay asleep in each other's arms in Draco's four-poster bed. Both were rudely awakened by the noisy entrance of Draco's father, who firstly knocked loudly on the door with the head of his cane, and then strode into the room, oblivious of any potential embarrassment. They could see that there was something seriously amiss. Gabrielle saw Draco open his mouth to protest, then close it, and wait for his father to explain.

"Draco, Gabrielle, I apologise for this intrusion, but I urgently need to speak to Gabrielle. Draco, your sister is in St Mungo's, she is very ill indeed. She may even die." As he said these last words, there was a catch in his voice, and Lucius closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

"Monsieur Malfoy? I do not understand. Why do you want to see me?" asked Gabrielle, puzzled, sitting up in bed and holding the covers firmly against herself.

"Gabrielle, I hope you can help us. The Healer-in-Charge told us that Veela Healers can intercede to prevent a death. You are part Veela. I wish to ask if you believe you have the power to help Bryony to live?"

Gabrielle's eyes widened, and she stared at Lucius, her mind racing. "But Monsieur Malfoy, I 'ave never 'eard of anyone oo was not a pure blood Veela oo could do zis." She shook her head. "I am sorry. I wish I could 'elp you. If I 'ad the power of course I would save 'er."

Lucius sighed. His shoulders slumped, and he looked suddenly much older. "Are you sure? Is it not even possible for you to try? I am sorry to seem disbelieving, but Bryony is my daughter, and Cho's only child. We would both be devastated to lose her."

As Gabrielle's mind cleared a little more following the initial shock of her rude awakening, a thought was niggling at the back of her mind: she suddenly remembered a conversation she had had recently concerning Bryony Chang. I wonder…? she thought.

Gabrielle turned to Lucius. "Please wait outside while I dress, Monsieur Malfoy," she said, "I 'ave just sought of somesing."

When Gabrielle joined Lucius on the landing, after telling Draco firmly to remain where he was, she asked him to take her to Narcissa's room. "I cannot remember which room it is. We must speak to 'er." Seeing that the young woman seemed genuinely to have some sort of idea, Lucius led her to his late wife's bedroom. Gabrielle stood before Narcissa's portrait, held her lantern high, and addressed her: "Madame, wake up! Wake up! Ze Secret Keeper is in great danger!"

Narcissa stood up, and at these words, seemed to be awake immediately. "What is wrong with her?" she demanded. Lucius, unaware of the previous conversation between these two, and confused by Gabrielle's apparent knowledge, explained Bryony's situation in as few words as possible. Narcissa looked shocked, but was plainly thinking. However, Lucius began to be impatient. "My daughter is dying. If one of you has an idea, I would be extremely grateful to hear it."

Narcissa ignored her former husband, and closed her eyes. Gabrielle sensed that Narcissa had her hand on the magical artefact. She closed her eyes too, and let the disturbance in the flux around her guide her thoughts to the same object. She began to see its shape with her mind's eye: the unique sharpness of its edges; the winged supernatural Veela on the handle. The Veela became real: a beautiful, pale, winged female creature perched on the edge of an abyss. It called to her in an ethereal voice. Gabrielle unconsciously put out her hand, and suddenly felt the weight of something real resting in her palm. She opened her eyes, and saw that she was holding the handle of an object encased in a dragon skin sheath.

Gabrielle looked up at Narcissa, who had also opened her eyes. A look of understanding passed between them. "It is only lent," said Narcissa, speaking in French so that there should be no misunderstanding. "It will only permit you to use it in order to aid the Secret Keeper. When she is safe, the Subtle Knife must be returned immediately. You must not speak of its existence to anyone. You must make the journey to save her alone. Lucius knows already of the Knife. He is permitted to stand by you, but none other must be present. He must not touch it himself until your mission is completed, unless you die in the attempt: for you must understand that success is not guaranteed. It is possible that both you and the Secret Keeper will die. On these terms only will the Knife permit you to be its temporary guardian.

"Do you accept the task?"

"I accept," said Gabrielle, simply. She was dressed in traditional robes, and placed the Subtle Knife in the long pocket designed to hold her wand.

Gabrielle Delacour, unaware of the radiance now surrounding her, turned to Lucius Malfoy.

"Come, Monsieur. Let us go to ze 'ospital and try to save Bryony."

* * *

Gabrielle and Lucius entered Bryony's hospital room together. Cho stood up as soon as she saw them. Lucius came straight to her side, and instinctively they held each other closely for a moment, each drawing strength from the other. As they drew apart, Lucius looked at his daughter, but there seemed to be no change in her condition. He indicated Gabrielle.

"This is Gabrielle Delacour. I understand you met years ago at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. I am sorry, but there is no time for a joyful reunion here and now. Gabrielle is part Veela. She has agreed to try and save Bryony.

"Cho, I know this is hard for you, but you must trust me. I have to ask you to leave the room. What Gabrielle is about to do must not be observed by anyone except myself. I regret that I cannot give you the reason for this, but it is necessary. Please, dear Cho, wait outside. You must also prevent Madam Luxor and any other hospital staff from entering. I am sure they will argue with you, but it must be done this way."

Lucius steered a stunned Cho Chang out of the side ward, and firmly closed the door in her face. With a swift pass of his wand, he sealed the door with a ward against insistent intruders. He turned to Gabrielle.

"Well, Mademoiselle Delacour, it is done, we are alone as my ex wife insisted. I have to ask you, do you have any idea what you are about to do?"

"No, Monsieur Malfoy, I do not. I 'ope ze Knife will guide me. But Madame Narcissa believes in me, she believes I can do zis. I 'ope she is right!"

"Do what you must, Gabrielle," said Lucius, gazing at the white face of his unconscious child. "I trust that you will try your best. I can ask no more of you. And if I can assist you in any way that is permitted, I will."

Gabrielle nodded curtly. She turned to face the bed, and stood by Bryony's pillow, placing herself as close to the girl's head as possible. She stretched out her arms so that her hands lightly touched Bryony's head, one palm pressed against each temple. Then she closed her eyes, and breathed slowly in and out, concentrating her mind on the Subtle Knife in her pocket, mentally asking it for guidance. The Knife formed an image in her mind: she saw the infinitesimally thin silver cutting edge on one side of the blade. A voice seemed to tell her, This is the Blade of Life and Death. She saw the winged Veela outlined in gold wire transform into a young woman with a white face and long silver-white hair, who held out her hand to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle took the hand of the Veela, and felt the coldness emanating from her. The Veela took to the air, and Gabrielle found herself hovering over a black abyss. She looked downwards, and could see ghostly shapes moving below. She peered at them, and saw they were shadowy people. She looked around her, and saw an elegant white bird apparently soaring on thermals above her head; but as she watched it, she noticed that the bird was flying lower with every turn. However hard it tried, the bird could not keep aloft, and threatened to plummet into the black abyss.

The Veela seemed to whisper in her head, "That is the child's Ba. See, it is a crane. This is a good sign, for the crane is a symbol of good luck. But you must stop the Ba from sinking into the abyss. The Ba must come back into the light with you."

"But how must I do it?" Gabrielle asked her Veela guide. "I cannot persuade a Ba. I do not have the powers of my Veela grandmother."

"You bear the Subtle Knife. This is the World Beyond. You must cut a window into the World of the Living, and allow the Ba to fly out of here. But beware. If you let the Knife slip, you may cut yourself, and the wounds do not heal. Should this happen, you will never leave here. You must also close the window when the Ba is free, for otherwise you will create a route from the World of the Living into the World Beyond into which the unwary may fall unexpectedly."

With infinite care, Gabrielle took out the Subtle Knife, and unbuckled the unfamiliar straps on the dragon skin sheath. She held the handle firmly, noting that the wire-patterned winged Veela had an insubstantial look, whereas the human Veela on the opposite side shone brightly. She slid out the blade, and was dazzled by the fineness of the edges.

"Use the silver edge," the Veela told her. "The silver edge is the supernatural blade. The steel edge is a weapon of exquisite fineness and precision."

"Where must I cut?"

"Seek for the Secret Keeper. You can feel her presence. Cut at the place nearest to her."

Gabrielle obeyed. She shut her eyes, and allowed her senses to seek the child: the Secret Keeper lay over here, just alive. Her breathing was becoming more and more shallow, and her Ba was flying further and further away, down, down. "You must do it now," commanded the Veela, "Now, or we will lose her!"

Gabrielle reached out and cut with the silver blade, handling the Knife as carefully as possible. Light shone into the space she had created: she saw the floating spherical crystals of St Mungo's gleaming above the bed, and the closed eyes of Bryony Chang below them. Suddenly, she heard wing beats by her ear, and the white body of the crane flew by her, the feathers of her red crown glowing like fire in the crystal light. The Ba bird passed through into the World of the Living, and melted into shadow as Bryony opened her eyes.

"Close the window," said the Veela urgently.

"But I do not know how," protested Gabrielle.

"First put away the Knife."

Gabrielle took the sheath, and carefully replaced the Knife, fastening the buckles securely. She put the sheathed Knife in her pocket, breathing a slight sigh of relief that she had avoided injuring herself.

"Now concentrate."

Gabrielle concentrated, seeking for a way of closing the window between the worlds. She could not see how to do it. The Veela could not tell her. In fact the Veela was fading, fast disappearing into shadow in the same manner as the Ba bird.

Gabrielle found herself standing on the very edge of the black abyss. She stepped backwards to avoid the edge, and felt her feet slipping. She tumbled down, down…

Lucius had been standing by the bedside in helpless frustration. Before him, he saw Gabrielle place her hands on his daughter's head, and then she seemed to drift into a trance. He could see that she was taut with concentration. He watched her face carefully for any clue: the young woman stood rigidly still, and only her eyes moved under their closed lids.

There was no change in either female for some while, and Lucius began to doubt the wisdom of his action: should his daughter die whilst the Healers were excluded, he knew that Cho would never forgive him, nor would he ever forgive himself. Then, as he began to despair, and curse himself inwardly for his arrogance, he saw a flicker of movement: some ghostly entity seemed to fly over Bryony's head, and fade into the shadows; and almost immediately, his daughter opened her eyes.

Lucius gasped, filled with sudden relief, and was about to move towards her, when he saw a change come over Gabrielle. She was no longer rigid, her hands fell away from Bryony's head, and in slow motion she began to sway slightly. Her legs buckled underneath her, and she started to sink towards the floor. Lucius moved swiftly to catch her before she fell far enough to hurt herself. With both hands full, he could not reach his wand, he therefore concentrated his mind, removing the ward on the door and opening it with his willpower alone.

As soon as the door had swung far enough open for him to be heard, Lucius called out, "Cho, fetch Madam Luxor! Bryony has woken up! She's alive! But Gabrielle needs a Healer urgently, she's unconscious!"


	13. Chapter 13

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 13**

Gabrielle felt herself falling. She knew she had lost her footing on the very edge of the abyss, and intuitively also knew that should she ever reach the bottom, she would never return to the world of light again. As she tumbled, she seemed to be falling into darkening shadow. She had time to regret the loss of her future and her marriage to Draco; to wish she had at least been able to bid him farewell.

Then she saw another bird soaring high above her: it had a long neck and long legs, powerful white wings, and a black head with a long, elegantly curved beak. The bird seemed to be searching; and it must have been seeking her, for suddenly the keen eyes spotted her diminutive figure against the vastness of the chasm, and the ibis swooped downwards in a flash of snowy feathers, bright against the gathering gloom. As it descended, beating its strong wings rapidly to reach her, Gabrielle saw that around its neck, suspended on a leather thong, hung a silver ankh: the symbol of life. Her heart lifted a little, for surely this was a good sign? But what could a mere bird do to prevent her from falling?

The ibis came nearer and nearer, and finally a slender black beak touched her shoulder, and the eyes looked sharply at her. Gabrielle turned her head to return the persistent gaze, and saw that they were not after all the eyes of a bird, but a pair of familiar cool grey eyes. As she stared in wonder, the body of the ibis melted into the body of a man, clad only in the short linen kilt of ancient Egypt, with bracelets on his wrists and upper arms, and the ankh shining against his strong chest. The face however remained that of an ibis, and in place of an Egyptian wig, the man had long, silver hair falling over his wide shoulders. Now that he possessed a pair of muscular arms, this approximate vision of Thoth, god of wisdom, justice and secret knowledge, lifted up Gabrielle and held her to him, and she knew that she was no longer plunging downwards, but instead, for a moment, she hung suspended in space.

A great peace descended on her, and she did not resist when her eyes drooped from exhaustion, for Gabrielle knew now that she had been saved after all; that Narcissa had been right to permit Lucius' presence; that, in the guise of Thoth, who had the power to bring the dead to life, Lucius had restored her to the light.

* * *

It was almost morning. Bryony was sleeping, and breathing normally once again. When she had awoken from her coma in the middle of the night, she had not understood why her Daddy held her so close, or the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Then Mummy had done the same. A Mediwitch had finally managed gently to prise Cho and Bryony apart, saying that Madam Luxor needed to examine the child to see that all was well. This examination had shown that Bryony was now on the road to recovery, and the crisis was over.

Lucius' attention had next turned to Gabrielle, who, following his cry for assistance, had immediately been whisked off to the Spell Damage Ward on the Fourth Floor by hospital staff. Once he was assured that Bryony would live, Lucius had borrowed three fast-flying owls from the hospital's high speed message service. He sent one to Draco, to inform him both of Gabrielle's whereabouts and to reassure him that his sister was alive; a second to Jane Currer at Gildenford Hall to let her and the Chang family know of Bryony's recovery; and he also remembered to send a third owl to Alan Forbes, Cho's business partner, best friend and confidant, and Bryony's doting godfather.

Lucius had then gone to check on Gabrielle's condition. In the Spell Damage Ward, he was relieved to see that the young French witch was awake, although she was lying in her bed looking very wan. When she saw him coming, she made as if to sit up, but he gestured her to stay as she was. Lucius took a seat by her side, and looked down into her pale, beautiful face. "How are you, my dear?" he asked her concernedly.

Gabrielle inclined her head slightly. "I am well, I sink. Ze 'ealers 'ere are good, it did not take zem very long to revive me. I sink it is much easier for zem to deal wiz spell damage zan strong poison." She glanced around the ward to make sure there were no staff nearby, and murmured to Lucius, "You 'ave ze Knife safe, I 'ope?"

"Yes, it is safe. I will take it back to Narcissa when I return home. Gabrielle, how can I ever thank you enough? Bryony is back with us once more, and recovering rapidly. Now she is sleeping naturally. How can I possibly repay you for my daughter's life?"

"You cannot, of course," replied Gabrielle simply, with the same French arrogance her sister Fleur had so often displayed. She smiled weakly, adding, "But of course, you 'ave partly repaid me already. You saved me from falling into ze dark."

Lucius looked puzzled. "I am sorry, my dear, but I do not understand you. I saved you from the dark?"

"Yes. I would 'ave died, but you caught me. You were ze god Tot, you 'eld me in your arms. You do not understand, I cannot explain it to you, I do not understand very well myself. But I am very glad you were zere."

Lucius took her hand and kissed it. "But you would never have been in danger if you had not agreed to try and save Bryony. If there is ever anything, Gabrielle, you only have to ask. Draco will be here soon. What shall you tell him?"

"Do not worry. I will sink of somesing. We Veela can make a man forget what he sought he wanted to know. It is useful sometimes." She smiled once more, and Lucius felt the unconscious pull of her attraction. He rose to leave her.

Back in Bryony's side ward, he sat beside Cho for a long time. They held hands, and at first they merely watched their sleeping child, unable to believe that she was still with them. As morning approached, they both began to droop, especially Cho, who was close to sleep with her head on Lucius' shoulder. Madam Luxor, returning to check over Bryony again, spoke to them. "Go home now," she said gently, "Bryony will be fine. Go and sleep. Come back when you feel rested."

"A good idea," said Lucius, "Come Cho, I will see you home. You are far too exhausted to make the journey alone."

As the couple apparated into Cho's suite of rooms, Lucius was ready to leave immediately, but then he saw how tired Cho really was. She swayed slightly, and almost fell. Lucius put his arm around her, and steered her towards the bedroom. Once in the room, he divested her of her shoes and outer garments, and helped her into the large bed, tucking the covers cosily around her shoulders. He was about to take his leave of her, when some instinct made him bend over and kiss her goodnight.

Lucius had intended this kiss to be a mere brush of the lips, and was surprised when Cho suddenly responded by kissing him back fiercely, and throwing her arms around his neck, forcing Lucius to sit on the edge of her bed. When she released him from the embrace, he looked at her in surprise. Cho seemed to have rallied more than a little, and was looking at him intensely with her dark eyes.

"Stay with me, Lucius," she said, so quietly that he almost missed her words.

"Stay with you in what manner?" he asked cautiously. "Do you want me to sit beside you?"

"Lucius, I would like you to get into bed with me and just hold me, if you can bear to do it. If not, then I would appreciate you sitting by me. I just don't want to be alone now. I felt Bryony's death was so near tonight, it made me realise how much I love her. And it made me realise how alone I've been feeling lying here every night."

"Are you sure this is what you want, Cho?"

"Yes, Lucius. Please."

Lucius undressed partially, keeping on his shirt to hide the scars, and climbed into bed beside Cho. The sheets were chilly against his skin, and the couple drew together instinctively for warmth. Lucius held Cho closely, remembering how it had been between them. He felt her gradually relax, and then she fell asleep in his arms. Lucius listened to her steady breathing, and felt a great pain in his chest at what he had lost: this beautiful woman, mother of his daughter, whom he had never ceased to love in spite of his cruel rejection of her. Was it true, as Jane had said, that Cho still loved him too? He thought he had seen it in her eyes tonight; but Lucius did not trust his feelings as he once had. Perhaps he was wrong, and she had merely wished for a companion to stave off the loneliness.

As dawn's rosy light peeped around the edge of the curtains, Lucius too fell asleep, Cho cradled protectively against his chest.

* * *

Cho awoke later that morning from a peaceful and dreamless sleep. She felt rested in a way that she had not for many months; and this in spite of the fact that her daughter was still in St Mungo's. At first, she felt disoriented, feeling a pair of strong, warm arms around her, and wondered if she was dreaming after all. But then she realised it was Lucius, and remembered asking him to stay with her. Cho felt so at home, wrapped safely against the world, Lucius' silky silver hair brushing her cheek, and the feel of his masculine body touching her. She sighed a little in regret at what she had lost, and as she did so, he awoke, and his cool grey eyes looked into hers. He did not seem at all confused. "Good morning, Lucius," she said softly, trying to read the expression in those clear orbs, which when examined close to, were flecked with traces of dark blue.

"Good morning, Cho," he replied in kind, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks to you. Thank you for staying."

"It was no hardship, I assure you," he replied. She saw his eyes move over her face. "You are still as beautiful as when we first met at Cho's Chic," he said. Then, bitterly he added, "At least one of us has worn the years well."

"Oh, Lucius!" Cho said, "Don't spoil everything. It's so nice to have you here. I feel so safe with you." Cho then looked at him carefully. "I think I understand – you don't want me to feel 'safe', do you? You want me to want you just the way I used to. You never understood, did you? I never stopped wanting you. It was you that drove me away. Even when I hated your attitude to Muggles or the house elves, I always loved you."

Cho put her arms around Lucius and kissed him full on the mouth. After a moment's hesitation, Lucius responded. It was as if all the intervening years had fallen away. The embrace lasted a long time. Cho pressed herself closely against him. She felt her nipples hardening in response to Lucius' tongue exploring her mouth. Through the fabric of their meagre clothing, she realised that Lucius' own desire was also evident. When the two broke apart, he looked at her seriously, his pupils enlarged. "Cho, are you sure this is what you want?"

In reply, Cho raised herself slightly, took Lucius' hands in her own, and guided them behind her until they were resting on the fastenings of her bra. "This is what I want," she assured him. She placed one of her own hands on his bulging crotch, and looked deeply into his eyes, gratified to hear a small gasp escape from his mouth as she touched him. "And this," she whispered.

It did not take them long to strip off their remaining clothing, except for the shirt that Lucius made no attempt to remove. Cho understood: she said nothing, and made no effort to disrobe him completely.

It was like coming home, this languid lovemaking: these two knew each other's bodies so well of old; knew how to please the other; knew the unexpected places that gave the most pleasure; knew how to make the moment last a lifetime. They were on fire with it: the pent-up lust, the mutual desire, the desperation for the closeness of another human, felt during many a long, lonely night. Finally, here was the object of love come willingly to consummate this yearning. Each wished to pleasure the other, each held back and forced their lover to reach a level of desperation before satisfying their longing; and finally they achieved their peak together, their bodies bucking and throbbing, their sexual organs both sore and ecstatically sensitive, each crying aloud without inhibition. Their physical union might as well have been advertised with a bloody bedsheet in the manner of the weddings of old, so aware were the nearby occupants of Gildenford Hall of Cho and her lover's rapturous orgasm.

Cho and Lucius lay exhausted in each others arms, covered with a film of rapidly evaporating sweat. The covers that had been thrown back as their bodies generated their own fiery heat were pulled over them once more. They fell asleep awhile, flushed with happiness and satiated desire; then woke again, feeling guilty: for here they lay, glowing from their joyous coupling, while their daughter, the fruit of their lustful loins, still lay in a large, white hospital bed recovering from a near fatal poisoning.

No words were needed. They rose, washed and dressed. To avoid embarrassment in the public rooms, Cho rang for a house elf, and ordered a light lunch to be brought to her sitting room. Briefly, she visited her grandmother to convey first hand her latest news about Bryony. Neither mentioned Cho's visitor, although Madam Chang had eyes and ears everywhere in Gildenford Hall, and no doubt knew well what had just occurred. Cho returned to her own suite. She and Lucius ate swiftly, and then they disapparated to St Mungo's to see Bryony once more.

Jane Currer sat in her room: here at Gildenford Hall, she had been given a bedroom and her own sitting room next to Bryony's bedroom. This arrangement had suited everyone very well, for should Bryony wake in the middle of the night, here were two possible females to attend to her, Cho on one side and Jane on the other. But now Bryony was in hospital, and Jane had no pupil, so she had spent much of the intervening time alone in her quarters, attempting to read, write letters or prepare future lessons; but in reality all the while thinking of Bryony or Lucius.

Jane had heard Cho and Lucius.

She had firstly heard voices in Cho's sitting room very early in the morning, when quite by chance, on her way back from the bathroom, she had passed the door at the time the couple had returned from St Mungo's. She had recognised Lucius' tones even through the closed door, so attuned was she to his voice. She had thought nothing of it, she knew Lucius was a perfect gentlewizard, and assumed he was merely escorting Miss Chang home, for Jane knew how distressed she was about Bryony. Even so, Jane had felt a twinge of jealousy, followed swiftly by a feeling of guilt: for how dare she begrudge Miss Chang a strong shoulder to lean on when her only child was ill as a result of an incident that had occurred while she was in Jane's care?

But then, much later, Jane had heard the cries. They were so loud that everyone in that wing of the house must have heard. Following her education at the sensitive hands and mouth of Lucius Malfoy, she knew quite well what those sounds meant.

Jane had not realised until that moment how much she had fallen in love with Lucius.

But now she might lose him altogether, for she knew that Miss Chang still loved Lucius: for had she not remained alone these three years since their parting? Miss Chang was Bryony's mother; was beautiful; was Lucius' one true love.

Jane sat, staring out of her window at the park, unseeing. As the leaves of early autumn turned to flame and gold, tears fell silently down her cheeks.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 14**

Jane Currer walked alone in the park at Gildenford Hall. She paid no attention to the splendour of the trees flaunting their autumn hues, grown deeper and more glorious over the preceding weeks. Her feet took her automatically to the lake, and she climbed the steps to the stone pavilion, where she sat, staring unseeing at the swans sailing by.

Jane was trying to organise her thoughts. She now knew that she had fallen in love with Lucius Malfoy. Had she not already felt a strong attraction to him, she would not have agreed to his proposal that he should be the first one to penetrate her womanhood.

She had tested the ground, she had made sure to ask him about Cho Chang. Lucius had told her the whole unvarnished truth, and she had been satisfied that she would not be cast in the role of a mistress displacing a consort. Jane had guessed that in spite of the current situation, Miss Chang and Lucius still loved each other. It was only the stubborn Malfoy pride that had kept them apart for so long; but a healing of the rift had seemed extremely unlikely.

But now circumstances had changed everything: Bryony's illness had been the catalyst they both needed to reignite the embers of their passion. Jane had heard them consummate their mutual longing; she had seen them together afterwards; she had observed their body language, the small glances, the unspoken understanding between them. She knew Lucius had also spent the following night with Cho.

And in response, she had felt a wave of despair. Her chest had hurt so much that she could not breathe; tears pricked behind her eyes, and slid silently down her cheeks; she could not eat, for her throat closed each time she tried to swallow. It had taken a great effort of will to get out of bed, and present an apparently calm face to the world. In one way, she was grateful that Bryony was still in hospital, for she did not think she would have been able to teach as before without the child noticing that something was amiss.

Jane decided that she must forget Lucius Malfoy as anything other than the father of her pupil. He had not attempted to speak to her alone since the poisoning, and Jane told herself that she was glad. As time passed, she hoped it would become easier to keep to her resolution. She had even considered leaving Gildenford Hall, to put a physical distance between herself and Lucius that would match the gulf she now felt separated their feelings. But Jane did not really want to leave. She loved Bryony, and enjoyed teaching her; the Chang family were good employers, and she lived very comfortably here at the Hall. No, she would not go. Lucius did not live here, she had no need to see him other than rarely; perhaps he would avoid her now anyway.

She noticed it had begun to rain softly, the drops making rings of ripples on the surface of the lake. Then Jane heard a noise, and turned to see the figure of a man silhouetted against the greensward. At first her heart stood still, as momentarily she thought it must be Lucius, until she realised that the shape was wrong: this man was both shorter and stockier than Lucius, and, she soon realised, dark haired. Jane began to make out the man's features, and saw that it was Neville, the gardener. He smiled awkwardly at her.

"Hello, Jane," he said, a trifle nervously, "I hope I'm not bothering you. Do you mind if I shelter from the rain in here? It looks like a short shower, I hope it won't last."

Jane smiled back at Neville. "Of course I don't mind. Come in, sit down. What brings you to this part of the park?"

"I'm checking on the water lilies," replied Neville. Jane had noticed before that his shyness disappeared when he discussed plants: Neville was very knowledgeable about every aspect of many different plants, from their origins and care to their medicinal, magical or potion properties. He had told Jane that herbology was the only subject at which he had been any good at Hogwarts.

"The flowers will be over soon," continued Neville, sitting beside Jane. "I need to collect the last water lily harvest of the season. Madam Chang needs her lotus supplies for the winter." He now looked at Jane more carefully. "Tell me to mind my own business," he said hesitantly, "But you look upset. Would it help to talk?"

Jane smiled ruefully at Neville. "You're very kind," she said, "You're also very observant, so I won't lie to you, but it's private. I'm sorry, I don't feel can discuss it with anyone."

Neville nodded his understanding. He continued to talk about his work. If he noticed Jane was only half listening, either he did not mind, or perhaps he realised that his inconsequential chatter was soothing in its own way. Neville was a very comfortable person to be near when he was in his own environment: he was calm and undemanding. He would converse happily with visitors to his garden, but was equally content if they wished just to walk and admire the view, or sit and read undisturbed in a quiet corner. Jane's attention was drawn to Neville by his last remarks.

"Sorry, Neville, did you just say you were going to China?"

"Yes, that's right. Madam Chang suggested it. She's arranged for me to stay with relatives of hers in Kunming. There are so many species and genera of plants that are only found in China. The part of China around Kunming is well known for the special plants used by Chinese wizards for medicine and magic. Madam Chang wants me to bring back some of the Chinese plants, and grow them here at Gildenford Hall. She's given me the name of a wizard plant expert she knows in China. She knows I'm interested in magical and medicinal plants, so she wants to help me expand my knowledge. We could end up with a unique Chinese collection here if we can establish the plants in our garden."

Jane smiled at Neville's quiet but obvious enthusiasm. "When will you go?" she asked him. "I'll miss you," she added, "You're always busy in the garden when I come out for a walk."

"I leave in two days. I'll be away for a fortnight. I'll miss you too."

"No, you won't, you'll be too busy plant hunting!"

Neville smiled. He did not disagree with her, for it was at least partly true: he would be busy in a new and strange environment. It was Jane, remaining at home, who would miss the companion of her afternoons: another employee like herself, unrelated to Bryony, who could appreciate Jane's situation.

Neville seemed to be thinking. He turned to Jane, and said, "How is Bryony? She's still in St Mungo's isn't she? When is she coming home?"

"The Healers think she will need to stay in St Mungo's for another week. Then when she first comes home, she'll still be weak, and will need to rest a lot."

"So she won't be having any lessons for at least two weeks?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Jane," Neville turned and looked at her, "Would you like to come with me to China? I can ask Madam Chang if it would be all right with her family. It would be better than staying here and worrying about Bryony, wouldn't it? She's going to be all right isn't she? So if you won't be needed to teach her, it would be a good time to go away, and take your mind off what happened."

Jane was astonished. She had only just learned that Neville was going away, and now he was asking her to go with him. Her first instinct was to say no, but she paused before she said this: for had she not been seeking a way to avoid Lucius Malfoy? If she were on the other side of the world on a different continent, there would be no danger at all of coming across him by accident. Distance might be just what she needed to reorder her thoughts, and put the blond wizard firmly away into the recesses of her mind. So instead, almost recklessly, she said, "Neville, that's a wonderful idea. Do you really want a companion though? I don't know much about plants, I don't want to get in your way. Also, I think I should be around when Bryony comes home. She won't want lessons, but she will need someone to care for her and entertain her. I can read to her and play with her. Perhaps I could come with you just for the first week?"

The delight in Neville's smile when she said this was another surprise for Jane. Too late, she realised that perhaps his invitation had been more than just an offer from a good friend attempting to stop her dwelling on Bryony's poisoning. Neville was quiet and retiring like Jane herself. This reaching out to her might be his way of beginning a courtship.

But she had already said yes, and she could not retract this now. Jane hoped Neville did not care for her more than a little, for she had no wish to hurt him. This visit to China might after all not be a particularly relaxing time, for she would have to monitor Neville carefully, and pitch her responses accordingly; remaining his friend, but not allowing him to build up hopes of anything more meaningful.

* * *

Deep in the abyss, an embryo consciousness stirred. This thing barely existed, it was not capable of rational thought; but it responded instinctively to something it was unable to resist. It probed, seeking. From where had the stimulus come? The thing searched; its only reason for existence was the call it had sensed. It would search, forever if necessary, to find the source.

Upwards. It began to crawl upwards, infinitely slowly: for the thing was at present infinitely minuscule, and the abyss infinitely deep. Its steep sides had few points of purchase. Progress would be gradual and protracted, but single-mindedly determined. Time had no meaning here, in the World Beyond. If it took a second or a century to reach its goal mattered not at all to this tiny spark of understanding; for neither the second nor the century existed here.

* * *

Jane paused to catch her breath as she climbed up the steep side of a Chinese mountain. She had not realised how unfit she was. She walked regularly in the park at Gildenford Hall, and ran around in short bursts with Bryony, but the terrain there with its gentle slopes had not prepared her at all for this angular rocky peak rising from the shores of the lake. Jane was exceedingly grateful that Kunming was not as hot as she had feared, for due to its high altitude, in spite of being on the same latitude as North Africa, this City of Perpetual Spring had a gentle climate. Jane felt she could not have born it if she had been walking in the heat she had expected. As it was, she wished she could fly up the mountain on her broomstick, but this place was very popular with Muggles, and China had so many of them. Still, the walk was pleasant if exhausting, for the track led through clumps of bamboo and a beautiful forest of ancient trees, with the occasional glimpse of a squirrel rustling the leaves above, or scurrying across the path in front of her.

Neville was walking ahead of her with their guide, a member of the Kunming Chang family with whom they were lodging. The two of them had stopped often and waited for Jane to catch them up, and eventually she told them not to wait, she would walk at her own pace, and see them at the site just below the mountain summit where the plant they were seeking grew. In spite of the mountain's popularity, they met few people on this path, for most Muggles took a chairlift directly to the mountaintop to see the old Taoist temple there. Therefore, certain rare plants flourished more or less undisturbed on the slopes.

Alone now on the hillside track, Jane breathed in the fresh mountain air, scented with resin from the trees, and listened to the calls of unfamiliar birds. At a break in the trees, she stood awhile to admire the view over Dianchi Lake, and let her mind drift as she recovered her breath.

Jane could hear her own heart beating steadily in the near silence. Suddenly it stood still, as an inexpressible feeling thrilled through her body, as sharp and startling as an electric shock. Her eyes and ears strained expectantly, and her flesh quivered.

For the quiet had been broken by a voice crying, "Jane! Jane! Jane!"

"What is it?" gasped Jane, shocked. She might have said "Where is it?" for the voice did not seem to come from the woods, from the track either before her or behind her, nor from amongst the boulders of the huge rocky outcrop nearby; it did not come from the air or from the earth. She had heard it, the voice of a human, a known and loved voice – that of Lucius Malfoy; and it spoke wildly, eerily, urgently.

"I am coming," cried Jane, "Wait for me!" She flew to the next turn in the path, and saw no-one. She ran back to the last turn, and there was nobody there either. She listened hard, and heard again, "Darling Jane! Sweet Jane!"

"Where are you?" she exclaimed, looking vainly among the rocks, and finding only dark shadows; and an answering echo, "Where are you?" came there faintly back. The wind sighed in the trees, and all was quiet once more.

"Is this the mind's deception, or is it true witchcraft?" Jane asked herself, feeling as if a madness had overtaken her. She had come here to China to avoid Lucius Malfoy, and yet, thinking he had called her, she had immediately obeyed her first instinct: to go to him.

Was this her mind's way of telling her that she would never be free of him, and that truly she did not wish to be?

Jane continued on her way, subdued now and taking little notice of her surroundings. She was unsure how long the madness had lasted, and she hoped Neville would not be concerned.

As she thought of Neville, her heart sank. This trip had been a mistake. She had just proved to herself that the distance of half a world was not enough to drive Lucius from her mind, and in addition she had allowed Neville to hope that he stood a chance with her: for now she was sure of his intentions. He had begun to look at her with such longing that it was impossible that she should be wrong.

Jane sighed to herself. This way of thinking was impossible. Lucius was unattainable now that he and Cho were reconciled. She wondered, should she try to convince herself to consider Neville seriously as a suitor?

* * *

The entity from the abyss was growing. As it climbed the near vertical walls in reply to the irresistible summons, it felt the call grow stronger. The thing was little more than a distillation of desire, filled almost exclusively with longing; for what it did not yet know.

Ascending, the entity gradually developed a second emotion: hate. It felt a great hatred and jealousy of all things that were alive, even as it sensed that it was being drawn to the world of the living.

Onwards and upwards, always moving, always growing. Now it possessed something that looked a little like a head; but it was still blind and deaf, and progressed solely by touch and instinct.

The invisible force pulled it in the same way that the daily path of Ra across the heavens forces a sunflower to watch his progress.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 15**

Cho and Alan were tidying up at Cho's Chic after their last customer of the day. Cho looked very preoccupied, and Alan was about to ask her what was on her mind, when she said to him, "Do you have to go straight home tonight, Alan? If you can spare the time, I need to talk to someone." She looked over at his dear familiar face, noting the quizzically raised eyebrow, and laughed a little. "I'm sorry, Alan! I mean, I need to talk to **you**. Who else would I turn to?"

Alan did not need to leave immediately, so, after double checking the locks and wards on the door, they went upstairs to the flat, where Cho sank down gratefully into the cushions of her sofa. Alan made them each a cup of their usual camomile tisane, set the cups down on the coffee table, and sat in an armchair opposite Cho. Indicating with his head that she should proceed, Alan sipped his tea and waited for Cho to start speaking.

"When Bryony was taken to St Mungo's," she began, "I was so worried about her, I thought she would die." Alan nodded. This was not news; he himself had also been fearful of losing his little goddaughter, and had been unable to sleep while waiting for news from the hospital.

"Lucius was with me. He was very worried too. We – we were a sort of comfort for each other. Our concern brought us together. For a while, we forgot our differences. He held my hand, we waited together, hour after hour. Then he fetched Gabrielle Delacour, and she saved Bryony. I was so relieved, I almost collapsed with the release of all the worry and tension. It was worse because I'd been excluded from Bryony's sick room while Gabrielle was there."

Alan nodded to show he was listening, but he wondered where all this was leading. He knew all about Bryony's recovery due to some mysterious action known only to Mademoiselle Delacour and Lucius Malfoy.

"I was exhausted. The Healer said we should go home, as Bryony was sleeping. Lucius said he would escort me, and he did. When we got to Gildenford Hall, I was so tired he had to put me to bed. He would have left then, but I asked him to stay, I felt so lonely."

Alan raised his eyebrows at this. "And did he?"

"Yes. I asked him to get into bed and just hold me. He did. I fell asleep straight away. The next morning, he was still there, I woke up in his arms. Well – you can guess what happened next." Cho blushed.

"You made love, I take it? And was this a one-off, or are you and Lucius a couple again now?"

Cho sighed. "I thought we were a couple again," she said, "It all seemed to be going so well. He's been staying with me every night at the Hall, it's been almost like a second honeymoon – not that we had a honeymoon the first time." Cho smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. "But two days ago, I woke up early, and wondered what had disturbed me. Then I realised Lucius was talking in his sleep. He does that sometimes, so I thought nothing of it and tried to go back to sleep. Then I started listening to what he was saying.

"He was saying 'Jane' over and over, and then he said, 'Darling Jane', 'Sweet Jane'."

"And who is Jane?" asked Alan; for the Jane of whom he immediately thought was Jane Currer. He had met her only once, and remembered her as small and plain.

"I've been wondering about it, and I think it must be Jane Currer. I don't know of any other Jane."

"And do you have any evidence that it's her?" asked Alan doubtfully, for he would not have expected Lucius to give Jane a second glance. "How do you know she wasn't just a dream witch? Did you say anything to Lucius?"

"No, I didn't know what to say. I don't even know what to feel, if Lucius has been having some kind of relationship with Jane Currer or anyone else. It hurt so much when I heard him, I was surprised how much I cared. Really, he has the right to see anyone he likes – after all, we hadn't been together for three years. But – well - you know the reason we split up? He wouldn't let any woman look at him."

"And it hurts that finally, when he first let down that barrier, it might have been to another woman?"

"Yes. He knew I loved him. I told him the scars didn't matter."

"Maybe that's why, my sweet. She was a stranger, she had never seen him before. If a stranger wasn't repulsed, it would be some kind of confirmation that he could still attract women." Cho nodded slightly at this observation, as if it made some kind of sense to her.

"I've been trying to remember if there's been anything about Jane's behaviour that could confirm that I'm right."

"And have you noticed anything?"

"I don't know – the last time I really noticed her was when Bryony was taken to St Mungo's. Jane was waiting for us there. She was very upset about Bryony, but she explained to Lucius what happened without flinching. I wondered about it at the time, but then I forgot because I was so scared Bryony would die. Lucius can be terrifying when he's angry, especially to anyone timid – standing up to Lucius is hardly the same as standing up to a wilful six-year-old after all! But he was surprisingly gentle with her considering she was in charge of Bryony when she ate the laburnum peas. I expected him to shout at her whether or not he really blamed her. If they were having a relationship, that would explain why he didn't.

"But since then, I haven't really seen her, and she's in China just now with Neville." Cho explained about Neville's plant-gathering trip, and added, "I'm beginning to wonder if Jane went with him mainly to get away from me and Lucius for a while."

"Would she know that you're back together? How discreet have you and Lucius been?"

Cho blushed crimson. "She knows," was all she would say, "Everyone at Gildenford Hall knows."

Alan did not pursue the point. Cho was generally very open with him, he alone knew many things about her that she had never divulged to another, knowing that he would keep her confidence; but even between the two of them, some things were just too private for Cho to share.

"So what do you plan to do next?" he asked her.

"I don't know. That's why I wanted to talk to you. What do you think I should do?"

Alan thought for a while, inhaling the comforting scent of camomile. "I suppose you want to know whether you're right? Jane might have gone to China because she likes Neville, not to avoid Lucius, you know. But if you find out you're right, what will you do about it? How do you feel about Jane Currer? Would you want her to leave?"

"No!" Cho said this immediately, without thinking, then she paused as if startled by her own reaction. "Bryony adores Jane," she continued more slowly, "Jane is a good teacher, and I think she's very fond of Bryony too. No, I wouldn't want to lose her."

"Could you live with her in the same house if Lucius is shagging her?" asked Alan bluntly, watching Cho carefully to see if her expression belied her words. He saw a look of pain cross her face. It stayed in her dark eyes.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. Alan considered carefully before he spoke.

"Then you have to decide first: which is worse? Not knowing, or knowing when the answer is not the one you want. Decide if you really want to know. And if you do, ask Lucius. It's much better that you should ask him than Jane, especially as the answer could be no. Jane is your employee, it wouldn't be fair to put her in that position."

* * *

Now the entity from the abyss had features, it had begun vaguely to resemble a man: those hollows of understanding might have been eyes, and vestigial ears had developed; but where its nose should have been there were only slits. It had a body and limbs, although it clung and crawled like an animal, not a man. With the development of its form came there a deeper loathing of the living, and a distant memory on the edge of consciousness that there were certain of the living on whom it should concentrate its hatred.

Now that it had organs capable of discerning light and shade, it looked ever upwards, instinctively seeking a source of brightness. It began to be capable of feeling physical pain. The sides of the abyss were not smooth as they had once seemed to an infinitely small being: now it had grown, it felt the sharpness of jagged edges digging mercilessly into newly developing skin, so thin and tender, and rubbed raw by the constant friction. Yet it could not pause to allow itself to heal; if indeed it would ever heal here, in this place of decay and despair. The hatred inside grew as the pain increased. It did not yet possess a mouth, else it would have cried aloud in rage and frustration.

At last it saw something far, far above: a distant pinpoint of light. With grim determination, it climbed onwards. Gradually it began to sense something else: emanating from the same source as the light was a magical field distorting the flux around it, so strong that its tendrils reached down here, far into the chasm, where the entity clung to the face of a vertical cliff. These tendrils reached into the embryonic mind of the creature, calling it inexorably onwards towards the heavy concentration of magic. The magic field bore the imprint of its creator, and the entity sensed that here was an enigma, leading to something unexplained and secret. The weavers of magic had left fragments of their identity at the magical site, fertilising the seeds of hatred in the creature's developing brain. Somehow, subconsciously, it recognised the field's creators, although it did not yet know even its own identity; and it seemed to the being that it had always known that they were the cause of its suffering.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study by the fire, thinking. He considered it was a supreme irony that he had been celibate for three years, and now suddenly he had two women in his life. Was it not also a great wonder that this should happen now, when he was ravaged and scarred and no longer youthful?

It was also a greater irony that in the days when he had cultivated a harem of willing paramours, he had always confidently bestowed his favours as and when it suited him; and now when he had but two, for the first time he did not know what to do about the situation.

Cho he had always loved, all through those dark and lonely intervening years. He had driven her away, refusing to believe that such a beautiful young woman could still desire his scarred and ruined body. He could not tolerate the possibility that she had offered to stay with him merely from pity or a sense of duty; but when she finally left, he had felt as if part of himself were missing. Their reunion a few days ago had been a revelation: they were meant to be together, and he now believed Cho when she said she loved him. Their lovemaking had been a glorious physical expression of their mutual bond. She was his soul mate, his heart's desire, and also Bryony's mother: they could be a family again, should Cho agree to live with him once more.

But now there was also Jane: shy, quiet Jane, whom he had once offended by calling her plain. He loved her too, but in another way: he was grateful to her for showing him that he was still desirable, for looking him full in the face when so many women would not; for allowing him to make love to a willing female again after so long. He loved her for her obvious yet embarrassed delight in discovering the pleasures of which her body was capable. It was because of Jane that he had dared to agree when Cho had asked him to stay with her that night. It was because of her that he had allowed himself to respond when Cho subsequently indicated that she wished for more than his comforting presence. Jane's calm acceptance of his imperfect body had persuaded him that Cho might indeed truly feel the same way.

He had come to love her small person, her calm, measured voice, her fearless manner in his presence when intimacy was not involved, and even her stubborn refusal to alter her outward appearance except in private. There was indeed something very pleasurable in knowing that underneath those unflattering robes was hidden a very pretty body, for the delight of his eyes and hands only. He also thought that Jane loved him too, for he felt that she would not otherwise have allowed him to enter her; and afterwards, who would not fall in love with a man who pleasured her so? This last was not mere vanity, he had seen it in her eyes. Lucius felt protective towards Jane, and did not wish to hurt her. In many ways, she had a maturity beyond her years, but in matters of love and lovemaking, she was but a novice.

Lucius remembered that he had dreamt about Jane, even while sleeping in Cho's bed. Jane had abandoned him, and was receiving a proposal of marriage from another: it was the gardener Neville, with whom she had passed many a pleasant hour at Gildenford Hall. In his dream, Lucius finally knew who Neville was. He had scarcely registered the young man before, he had regarded him merely as part of the scenery when he took Bryony into the garden. Now, his subconscious had made the connection, and he realised that the muscular self-contained young wizard who now worked for the Changs was none other than a member of that group of Hogwarts schoolchildren responsible for his incarceration in Azkaban so many years ago. Lucius' upper lip curled as he thought of this. He remembered Neville trying to enunciate "Stupefy" over and over again before Bellatrix had tortured him. In spite of this maltreatment, the wretched boy had still managed to catch the prophecy the Dark Lord had wanted so badly, when Harry Potter had cast it away just as Lucius had thought it was finally in his possession.

In his dream, Jane had been about to accept Neville's offer of marriage, and Lucius had called out her name to stop her. He did not wish Jane to marry any other man, but the thought of her marrying Neville, that agent of his humiliation, was unbearable. Lucius could recall no further details of the dream, but this part was clear in his mind. He felt it was further evidence of his feelings for Jane Currer.

What was he to do now? He could see no solution that did not involve hurting either Cho or Jane. He stared into the fire, but saw no answer in the flames forming cobwebs before his eyes.

Lucius was unaware that his dream had been so vivid that he had physically called Jane's name out loud; that his cries had woken Cho, who had lain in the dark wondering at this revelation; or that they had also been heard by Jane, who had almost convinced herself that the cries were a product of her own confused imagination.

Instead, magic had been at work, for Jane had truly heard Lucius' voice articulating her name and each endearment precisely as he said it; he asleep in the chill dark early hours of an English morning, and she wide awake in the warm sunshine of a Chinese afternoon.

* * *

The creature approached the light. The goal once so distant was within its grasp, and it felt a small wave of triumph. Now that it had achieved a more definite shape, this thing was surely a man; but it was a man like no other, and any mortal regarding it would have shrunk back with fear, for it moved upon the face of the cliff like some crawling beast, its limbs moving in ways that any normal man would find impossible. Its skin was greyish and translucent, so that the newly formed veins beneath formed a bluish-red pattern of knots and branches. The face was like a mask, the skin stretched taut over the skull, the toothless mouth pulled into an expression of hate. But the most fearful thing was the livid scarlet eyes, with their cat-like pupils. These unblinking red orbs glowed like lamps in the darkness of the World Beyond, and remained fixed upon their target.

Now at last, the entity from the abyss looked into the light. It had reached the top of the cliff, and balancing on the edge of the chasm, it gazed from the shadow of the World Beyond into the brightness of the world of the living. It stretched out its senses. This was where the concentration of magic was the greatest: both around the window between the two worlds, and also in the place beyond. The being could sense the presence of another mind, around whom the magical field was very strong. This other mind was strangely unformed, and unaware of its own power; unaware of the distortion in the flux caused by its thoughts.

Red eyes adjusted slowly to the unaccustomed brightness, and the pupils contracted to mere slits. The world of light gradually came into focus, and the creature saw that the living body housing the magical mind lay in bed. It sensed that the person was asleep.

The situation was perfect.

The creature slipped through the window from the world of darkness and despair into the world of the living. Its body morphed into a snakelike shape so that its limbs should not impede its progress, allowing it to glide smoothly through the portal. It did not bother to change back, instead the serpent creature continued to glide, slipping under the bedcovers to lie alongside its victim. It raised its head, and the scarlet eyes stared at the human: here was a child, which explained the unformed mind; and this child's identity was sharply imprinted on the magic field, with a strong genetic link to those responsible for the entity's downfall. The power of her unrealised magical potential shone like a beacon at the centre of the disturbance in the flux.

The serpent creature moved slowly but surely, and wrapped itself around the child's sleeping form. The entity that had willed itself to gain a physical body now concentrated solely on its own and the sleeping child's minds. It thought itself into the far recesses of her consciousness. As it did so, the corporeal form began to melt into a thing of shadow, as insubstantial as smoke. The red light in the cruel eyes faded to pink.

The door into the room opened, and as the Mediwitch entered, a slight gust of air blew in from the corridor. For a moment, the witch thought she saw something in the bed beside her patient, but it must have been a trick of the light.

As the last few molecules of his latest body dispersed into the atmosphere, Lord Voldemort looked out momentarily through the eyes of Bryony Chang, and allowed himself a small feeling of victory.

He then withdrew to the far edge of her conscious mind, and prepared himself for a very long and patient wait: it would be many years before this child was old enough to be of use to him.

But meanwhile, he would remain hidden. Unknown to his involuntary host, he would watch and plan.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 16**

Hermione Granger held on tightly to Bryony's hand as she apparated them both into the walled garden. Nanny had been very reluctant to allow Bryony outside, for the child had only returned home from hospital two days beforehand, and was expected to spend another week recuperating at Gildenford Hall. Hermione had been a surprise visitor, and Bryony, bored with being cooped up inside while the sun shone so invitingly outside, had been delighted to see her. She had pleaded to be allowed to go outside just for a short while.

"Nanny must take care of Little Miss," Nanny had said, "and Little Miss is not better yet. Miss must not catch cold out in the windy garden."

"We could go into the walled garden," said Hermione. "It's sheltered there. And you can wrap Bryony up well in her warmest clothes, Nanny. I won't let her stay out too long, I promise. If I see she's getting cold, I'll bring her straight back."

Nanny had reluctantly been persuaded that this could do no harm. She had then proceeded to dress Bryony in layer upon layer. Bryony, who loved her house elf nursemaid dearly and had put up with the process patiently until now, finally protested that she was far too hot and the clothes were too heavy for her to move. Hermione had then intervened, and whisked her pupil away before the disagreement could escalate into a battle of wills between the dutiful house elf and her determined charge.

Once in the walled garden, Hermione led Bryony behind a hedge that obscured the view from the house. She assessed the temperature, some degrees cooler than inside the Hall, removed a couple of layers of Bryony's clothing, and rearranged the thick outer cloak around the child's shoulders. She put her finger over her mouth for silence, and Bryony was delighted at this secret to be kept from Nanny. They left the discarded items neatly folded on one of the seats, and began to walk slowly around the garden, stopping to admire all Bryony's favourites, many now grown leggy or with blooms sadly past their prime. Hermione said to Bryony, "I'm glad we came outside, because someone else is here to see you too."

"Is it Neville?" asked Bryony, looking around her. She liked Neville, he was always kind to her, and patience personified when she asked him interminable questions about his plants. Unlike other adults, somehow he was never addressed by his surname, he was Neville to everyone.

"No, he's still in China with Miss Currer, remember?" answered Hermione. "Now, who is my favourite companion, that I promised to bring to see you?"

Bryony frowned. "Harry Potter?" she asked doubtfully. She remembered that Mummy had said that Miss Granger was a good friend of the famous Harry Potter.

Hermione laughed. "No. It was a good guess, but think again. Four legs, not two!"

"Crookshanks!" cried Bryony delightedly. Hermione nodded in agreement. Bryony looked around again. "Where is he?"

"I left him by the front door. I didn't know if you would be allowed outside, but I brought him just in case. I didn't want to take him inside the Hall without asking first, some people find him a bit scary, and he sheds fur all over the place. I should be able to whistle him over from the walled garden gate. You sit and wait here a few moments. And be sure you don't pick or eat anything!"

Hermione was not away long. She returned, walking towards Bryony, carrying in her arms an extremely ugly large cat. When Hermione had acquired Crookshanks, he was already very mature, and was bright ginger with a squashed flat face and a bottlebrush tail. He had never been a beauty, and the intervening years had done him no favours. He was battle-scarred, with a chewed ear, and a patch of missing fur over one eye. His once orange coat was now salt and pepper, a mixture of grey and pale marmalade, the bottlebrush tail now balding. However, Hermione loved Crookshanks, and would hear no word against him. She fully expected that Bryony would appreciate Crookshanks too, and not find him either scary or repulsive. She approached the small child, who looked suddenly frail and tiny as she sat on the garden seat, well wrapped up against the slight chill wind that reached even this sheltered spot. Bryony stood up with excitement as she saw them approaching, fully prepared to greet and admire Miss Granger's unique pet.

Hermione was pleased when she saw Bryony's reaction. Crookshanks was paying no particular attention to anything, and was enjoying being carried, hanging heavy and limp in his mistress's arms. The young professor was therefore completely taken aback at what happened next.

Crookshanks suddenly focused on Bryony, and reacted immediately: his fur stood out from his body, making him appear twice as large. His face transformed into a snarl, and he let out a banshee shriek as he suddenly launched himself at Bryony, his claws unsheathed, plainly ready to inflict terrible physical damage on the child. Hermione was so startled, she did not react quickly enough to prevent the attack. A moment too late, she reached for her wand.

Behind her, she heard a familiar voice uttering the terrible words, "Avada Kedavra." A jet of green light shot past her, and struck Crookshanks in the centre of his back, catching him in midair before his claws could sink into the tender skin of Bryony's face. The beast fell earthwards like a stone, and his apparently undamaged body lay there on the grass, with faint plumes of smoke rising from it, its legs pointing rigidly skywards. Bryony screamed.

A cloaked figure rushed past Hermione, knelt down beside Bryony, and engulfed her in his arms. At first, Lucius Malfoy hugged his daughter so tightly she could hardly breathe. Loosening his grip slightly, he tried to stop her hysterical crying by talking quietly to her. Hermione stood there, horrified. She did not know what to do: whether to disapparate immediately before she was ordered off the premises, whether or not to retrieve Crookshanks' body, or whether to wait and ensure that Bryony was unharmed. Finally, she decided she must face Lucius Malfoy. For the first time in her life, she felt that whatever he threatened her with, she would probably deserve it, for she was entirely responsible for Crookshanks' presence here, even though she could not explain why he had suddenly become a ferocious wildcat in a matter of moments. The only time Crookshanks had ever behaved like this before was when he had attacked Peter Pettigrew in his animagus form as Ron's pet rat. But this was no Death Eater, this was a slightly frail child of six recovering from a stay in hospital.

Lucius now looked at Hermione over Bryony's head. His eyes were the colour and hardness of flint, and bored into her relentlessly. All the hate Malfoy had ever felt for her was concentrated in that gaze. He spoke in glacier-like tones. Hermione could hear the effort required to keep his voice even, for it was clear he did not wish to make a scene in front of his trembling daughter, or to frighten her further by giving way to his obvious rage: "Miss Granger, I shall firstly take my daughter inside and ensure that she is made comfortable. I may be some time because, as you may observe, she is extremely upset. However, when that is done, I wish to speak to you. I therefore advise you to wait here, because if you do not, I shall call on you at the university, and I shall be sure to inform your fellow professors and your students what has just occurred. I believe being that in charge of a dangerous familiar carries the penalty of dismissal? Therefore you would be both disgraced and discharged."

Lucius picked up Bryony in his arms and disapparated, leaving Hermione staring after them open-mouthed. Gradually, she forced herself to look at Crookshanks; to walk over to him; to touch his fur. His face was frozen in the ugly snarl he had worn when he threatened Bryony. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she did not try to prevent them from falling down her cheeks. Her beloved pet, her friend for so many years, who slept across her legs every night, was dead; and not of old age, which she had feared would catch up with the old feline any day now, but killed by Lucius Malfoy. This time though, Lucius had acted perfectly properly. Had Hermione been faster with her wand, she would herself have used a stunning spell to render Crookshanks unconscious, but she could not blame Lucius in the circumstances. Much as she hated Lucius, Hermione recognised that he loved his daughter, and that to his mind, preserving the life of a ferocious cat was unimportant when compared to the well-being of his child. Hermione picked up the stiff ginger form, and sat on the nearest seat cradling him in her arms, her tears falling over him, firstly glistening like raindrops on the surface of his fur, then gradually soaking into his pelt.

She did not know how long she sat this way. Crookshanks began to grow cold, but she could not bear to put him down. She did not notice that she too, dressed for walking rather than sitting in the chilly wind, was beginning to feel cold.

It was just so that Lucius discovered her when he returned. He stood looking down at her, and sneered, "So here is the remarkable Miss Granger, famous for her cleverness and her great magical abilities, reduced to crying over a dead cat. Look at me, you Mudblood!"

Hermione raised her eyes, for the first time in her life truly terrified to be in the presence of Lucius Malfoy. When she had first confronted him many years ago, she had had the arrogance of youth on her side, and the knowledge that she was right had always been a way of ignoring her fears. But now she faced this man who had always hated her, firstly entirely due to his pure blood prejudice, and later because she had so often outwitted him and humiliated his son. She faced him knowing that Crookshanks had almost clawed and bitten Bryony's face.

Lucius was standing tall before her. His once beautiful face was twisted into a sneer full of loathing, the livid scars on one side making him look even more dangerous. The steel grey eyes bored into hers. Hermione wished she could disapparate, but knew that Lucius would take great pleasure in humiliating her in public if she did. He began to speak, deliberately articulating each sound, spitting out venom with every word.

"How **dare** you bring that creature into this garden, to threaten my daughter? She has been out of hospital for only two days, and her first visitor brings with her something that she claims is a domestic cat, but is actually some kind of cross between a wildcat and a kneazle. This small child, without any provocation, is suddenly attacked by the familiar of a witch who would never have been allowed to set foot here if I had my way. Tell me, Miss Granger, were you going to permit this beast to actually attack Bryony? Had I not arrived when I did, she would have been severely mauled. You are not fit to be in charge of a familiar, much less a child of mine!"

"He never behaved like that before," muttered Hermione. "I didn't know he would, or I swear I would never have brought him. I would have stopped him, but I wasn't quick…"

"You were not quick enough, were you saying? And you had persuaded us all that you were the cleverest of witches, thinking on your feet, always so sure of yourself! So even the Granger Mudblood is not as perfect as she would have us all believe. You are very lucky I arrived when I did, were you not? In fact, I believe I would like to hear you say how lucky you are, and to thank me for my swift action in saving your fat little Mudblood arse."

"I was very lucky you appeared when you did, Mr Malfoy. Thank you," replied Hermione woodenly.

"No, I am sorry, that will not do at all. I want you to sound as if you really mean it. And I want you to say the words 'fat Mudblood arse' very clearly and distinctly. Do you think you can do that?" The tone was now light and jeering, but the threat behind the words remained. Hermione took a deep breath, and said the words as instructed, trying to put some genuine feeling into them, although she sensed that whatever she did, Lucius would not let her get away with only one performance. Humiliation in front of her peers was to be replaced by worse humiliation solely for his own amusement. And she had to take it, to obey him.

She was right, he was not satisfied, he made her say the words over and over again, until they were meaningless and she had forgotten how the emphasis should sound if she were genuinely thanking him. This time, expecting him to say, "Again!" once more, instead she heard Lucius say, "Fat Mudblood arse? Oh, I don't know, perhaps it's not such a fat rear end that you have. Do stand up and turn around so that I can inspect it for myself, and see if you are being unnecessarily harsh on yourself." He stood there, head on one side, smirking at her, then suddenly, the cobra head of the snake cane was pushed under her chin, and she was forced by the pressure he exerted to stand up. Hermione was still cradling the now cold and stiff Crookshanks in her arms, and slowly she turned around until she was facing away from her tormentor.

"Stop!" Lucius said. Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable, for she could no longer see where he was, and she jumped with shock when a voice suddenly hissed in her ear, "You should count yourself extremely fortunate, Miss Granger, for not only have I saved your fat Mudblood arse – and yes, I have decided that sitting around in the university library is not at all good for a keeping a young witch in shape, and your rear end is definitely getting a little too wide for my taste – but I choose to rebuke you here, in full view of the house, so certain physical punishments that I would dearly like to use on you are quite out of the question. However, we are too far away to be overheard if we speak in normal voices, so I may say precisely what I like to you.

"Miss Granger, you are a meddlesome, loathsome Mudblood. You have no right to mix in civilised wizard society with Muggle parents like yours. I can see into your mind. You hate me in return, but the idea of physical chastisement from me excites you, and this disgusts you, even as you are wet between your legs at the thought of it. You really want me to whip you, to force myself on you. You dream about me doing this, of my fingers thrust deep inside you, of my hands gripping that fat beam end of yours while I penetrate you until you scream for mercy, and you wake shuddering with self loathing."

Hermione was shaking now. How dare he say such things to her? But she could not fight back, the weight of guilt over Bryony and the grief over Crookshanks were too great. She just wished it would be over. How long did he intend to continue to humiliate her?

A gloved hand grabbed her chin from behind: it was the hand furthest away from the Hall, and both Lucius' and Hermione's bodies blocked the view of any watchers at the windows. The hand held her in a firm grip while the thumb stroked her jawline, ran itself over her mouth, and caressed the side of her face. The menacing voice continued just above a whisper: "You like that, don't you my little Mudblood? You hate yourself for the way your body reacts to me, but one reason you hate me so much is because you really want me to fulfil your darkest fantasies. Admit you dream about me. Say it!" Hermione was too shocked to respond, and his grip became vicelike. "Say it, or we will apparate elsewhere, and you will have no protection from any potential witnesses."

"I dream about you."

"Ah, yes, I thought as much. Tell me, what do we do in your dreams?"

Hermione tried to think what Lucius wanted to hear. Her heart sinking, she knew she probably would be forced to go into detail. She would start with the punishment, and perhaps she could avoid the other subject. "You whip me," she began, closing her eyes as she said it.

"I whip you? Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"How much? Describe the pain."

"It's excruciating. The whip cuts into my flesh. It makes me bleed."

"Do I stop when you bleed? Do you cry out?"

"No, you don't stop, you like to see me hurting. Yes, I cry out. I beg you to stop."

"Then what? Really, Miss Granger, this is like pulling teeth. Of course, we could remove ourselves if you prefer, and the teeth pulling can be arranged. Tell me your dreams. I am waiting."

"You carry on, I bleed. My back is raw, I'm about to pass out. You are clever enough to see this, so you stop. You do not want me to pass out, because then I will not hurt any longer."

"Better, much better. So what do I do next?"

"You lick my wounds."

"Lick your wounds? I like it. I admit I had not thought of such a thing, please continue. Why do I do this? Am I a vampire?" The voice contained a trace of amusement.

"No, you are not a vampire. I don't know why you do it. In my dream, I cannot see into your head. But I like it. It hurts a little, but it's soothing too. It helps to make the stinging stop."

"Is that really all, Miss Granger? My tongue on your back, and all you think is, this is soothing? Come, come, you are not trying hard enough. Do you not imagine that busy tongue moving elsewhere? What part of you would most like to feel my tongue? That ample rear of yours? Your breasts? - which I will grant you are pleasingly full - in fact, perhaps it is even worth having such a large backside if it means you have the breasts to go with it. Would you not like to feel my tongue on your nipples? Or between your legs perhaps? This all started with your cat. Shall we finish with me licking a cat of quite another sort?

"Now tell me, Miss Mudblood, that this talk does not excite you at all. That while your conscious mind finds me the most loathsome creature imaginable, your body is not busy betraying you all the while. Tell me that you are not wet at the thought of my tongue on your most sensitive parts, that your nipples are not hard at my insolent suggestions and my reluctant admiration of your breasts.

"If you admit that your ample knickers are damp with desire for Lucius Malfoy, I will let you go. But only if you satisfy me with your description. And I want to see your face when you say it. I want you to look me in the eyes." He removed the gloved hand and waited.

Hermione turned around to face Lucius. He stood very close before her. His eyes were still flint hard, he was still furious about Bryony, but a slight smile played around his mouth. She could see that he was revelling in her humiliation. She also knew that Malfoy had read her perfectly; everything he had said about her body betraying her was true. He knew that the humiliation was doubled because of this: she would not be inventing a fantasy for him, she would be confessing the truth.

Hermione pulled back her shoulders and faced her tormentor. "Yes, you are right," she said. "You know I hate you as much as you hate me, but yes, I find my body has betrayed me. My knickers are wet, and it is because of you."

Lucius' mouth formed a moue. "That was a very poor effort indeed," he chided her silkily. "I told you, I want you to satisfy me with your description. Make it sound as if you are really longing for me to take you. I know you can do it. You must have a very large vocabulary with all that reading you do. Of course, I suppose you do not select erotica for your bedtime reading, I expect you favour some heavy grimoire instead, but I am sure you are more than capable of this task. Look upon it as a challenge. Paint me an erotic picture of how you feel when you dream about me, Miss Granger. This is just between ourselves, after all. I do not imagine that either of us is going to tell anyone else, it would be far too humiliating for us both. Of course, this is extremely humiliating for you now too, but I am sure you see that is entirely deliberate on my part. I want you to suffer. And," he added menacingly, "your suffering does not even begin to approach the suffering Bryony would have undergone had that wildcat of yours achieved its goal. Also, please put that hideous animal out of sight while you describe what you want me to do to you, else I shall be obliged to perform a vanishing spell on it."

Hermione carefully laid Crookshanks' body on the grass behind the garden seat, and stood facing Lucius. She tried to make sure she was standing comfortably. She wished she could do this with her eyes closed, or at the very least averted from his gaze, but Lucius had specified that she must look him straight in the eyes. She must try her best to give a good performance, else she would be forced to do it again. The humiliation was not just in the recitation, it was in the revelation of her innermost guilty thoughts.

"I dream about you," she began. "I hate it when I do, because the dreams are always erotic. Sometimes I wake up before anything happens, and I find I feel regret, then I feel guilty for feeling regretful, because how can I dream this way about you? You know I hate you. You are the most loathsome man imaginable, you were a Death Eater, you followed the most dangerous wizard ever, you hate Muggles. You hate Mudbloods, and I am a Mudblood. How can I dream this way about someone like you? But we cannot control our dreams, even if we wish we could. When I've been dreaming about you, I wake up feeling frustrated. My nipples are hard, my vagina is wet, my clitoris is aching and swollen. I'm so desperate for relief that I finger myself to a climax, even though it is not quite satisfactory – I long for the extra firmness and slight roughness of a man's finger - your finger - but it is all I have available. When finally I come, I see your face in front of me. Describing this to you now is humiliating, just as you intended, but it's also having the same effect as the dreams. Just as you said, my knickers are wet with longing for you, and I ache with frustration. Even as I hate you, I imagine you deep inside me, and the thought makes me even wetter."

Hermione stood, her face now flushed both with embarrassment at what she had just been compelled to say, and with the genuine feelings she had just described; aware of her body tingling with desire, while she simultaneously felt her hatred for Lucius Malfoy hardening. She felt she must have satisfied him with that performance. If she had not, she had no more to give.

Lucius nodded his approval. He had got what he wanted, she saw. He clapped his gloved hands together in mock applause. "_Brava_, Miss Granger. You see what you can do when you try? How gratifying to be the object of such sexual longing, and so well expressed too, I congratulate you. I award you an A minus for erotic narrative - the description of myself was rather too unflattering for an A. If you feel the need to finger yourself to a climax now, don't let my presence stop you – oh, I forgot, we are still within sight of the house. Perhaps I should allow you to go home, so that you may perform a relief massage on yourself? Yes, I think you may leave now.

"But, Miss Granger, there are two more things: one, take that ugly wildcat's corpse away with you, and two, do not come back here again. You are no longer a tutor to my daughter. When I explain to Cho what occurred here, she will not object to my decision, however much she regards you as her friend. This time you have really overstepped the mark, putting Bryony in danger in that manner. If Cho wishes to invite you here for any other purpose, that is her prerogative, but I absolutely forbid you to have any further contact with Bryony. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Mr Malfoy," said Hermione, trying desperately not to let the relief she felt show in her voice now that she was free to go. She picked up Crookshanks tenderly once more, and disapparated with a loud crack.


	17. Chapter 17

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 17**

Three witches stepped, one after the other in rapid succession, from the high, wide fireplace in the side room at The Leaky Cauldron. This fireplace was oversized relative to the room in which it sat, the cheerful flames burning in the hearth making the confined space very hot and stuffy. The massive stone construction was necessary, for this was one of the main London stops on the floo network, used by most witches and wizards who were visiting Diagon Alley. It was generally considered impolite to floo directly into the fireplaces of individual shops, and impossible to do so directly into Gringott's Bank, where wards and intruder charms protected all the fireplaces. It was risky to apparate almost anywhere in Diagon Alley during business hours, as the place was generally bustling with people. In contrast, The Leaky Cauldron was pleased to welcome travellers, and had set aside this room for arrivals and departures. This facility was good for business, as many shoppers stopped at the hostelry either before or after buying their purchases, and sampled the landlord Tom's excellent butterbeer, or tucked into one of his famous pies, baked by his daughter in huge ovens in the kitchen beside this transit point.

These three arrivals were not enticed into stopping for refreshment by the delicious smell of fresh baking, for they had only recently breakfasted. They were two young women and a child: Jane Currer, Gabrielle Delacour and Bryony Chang. Gabrielle was on her way to Cho's Chic to discuss her wedding dress: for who else would make a dress for her if not Cho, now famous also in France for her couture? Cho was the mother of Draco's half sister, and also she and Gabrielle had shared that terrifying experience of being placed in the lake at Hogwarts many years ago, in order to be rescued by their respective school's Champion during the Triwizard Tournament. Gabrielle had invited Bryony to accompany her today, knowing that the small girl would enjoy visiting her mother at work, and guessing that she would also love to be involved in the choice of a wedding dress.

When Gabrielle had asked Bryony if she would like to come with her, Jane Currer had been present, and had encouraged Bryony to accept. It became apparent that Jane had never been to Diagon Alley. Gabrielle expressed her amazement, but soon understood that Jane had not been very long in England before she had been hired by Madam Chang, and subsequently had spent all her time at Gildenford Hall. "Zen you must come too, Jane," she had said. Jane had been reluctant at first, believing she would perhaps be in the way, but Gabrielle had insisted, and so here were all three of them, the two women each holding one of Bryony's hands, making their way along Diagon Alley to Cho's Chic.

In the shop they were greeted by Cho, who hugged her daughter and then introduced Gabrielle to Alan. His eyes sparkled when Gabrielle kissed him on both cheeks. Jane, emboldened by Mademoiselle Delacour's demonstration of her continental manners, then did the same equally as naturally; for she had been accustomed to this form of greeting in Brussels, and had been obliged to learn to shake hands instead here in England. Alan smiled at her, eliciting a pretty blushing smile in response. He wondered as he looked at her, careful not to be seen examining her too closely, whether this creature had really attracted the attention of Lucius Malfoy as any more than the governess of his daughter. Here, where fashion was the very core of the business, Jane's severe blue robes were quite out of place; but Alan was not one to judge a book by its cover. He could see that Jane was very neat, her brown hair shone with health, and her clear honest eyes looked into his without a trace of the guile shown by some of his less innocent customers.

Cho took charge of Gabrielle, leading her into the workroom at the back of the shop, and Alan, who had a quarter hour's respite before his next appointment, entertained his goddaughter by showing her the swatches of some beautiful new fabrics that Cho was importing from China, following her visit to Hong Kong some weeks ago. Bryony was enchanted by the bright colours that all the fashionable witches were ordering for their new Hallowe'en ball gowns. Jane sat by, smiling quietly at Bryony's enthusiasm, and thus they passed the time until the ringing of the shop bell announced the entrance of the awaited customer. Alan then turned his attention to this latest arrival, an elderly witch who loved all the flattery and attention from a much younger man, while Jane took Bryony into the workroom. Here Cho and Gabrielle were deep in discussion about what Gabrielle would wear on her big day, with fabric samples and sketches strewn all over the work surface.

Bryony was happy to finger these new swatches, all in shades of white, ivory and cream, as her mother and future sister-in-law continued their discussion. She picked up one sample, and turned it this way and that, watching the play of light on it. "I like this one, Mummy," she said after a while, hoping to attract Cho's attention at last, having been very patient indeed for a six-year-old.

Gabrielle turned to her, smiling, and took the sample. As she did so, a shaft of sunlight suddenly shone through the window, catching the fabric, which shimmered, rainbow colours playing over its surface as Gabrielle turned it in her hands. "Ah, you are so clever, Bryony," she said, "It is so beautiful. I will 'ave zis one. It seems plain at first, but when I move, _violà_, ze effect will be stunning!" She hugged Bryony spontaneously, and kissed her. Cho approved the choice, she could see that it would complement Gabrielle's pale blonde hair perfectly. She set Bryony on her knee, and praised her daughter: "You saved us a lot of time there. We couldn't decide, and then you chose for us. You have excellent taste! Now, Bryony, Gabrielle wants to ask you something."

"Bryony," said Gabrielle, looking serious, "I want to ask you a question. When I get married, would you like to be a bridesmaid?"

Bryony's eyes were round with amazement. "Me, a bridesmaid? Ohh, yes! Mummy, can I?"

"Of course you can! Gabrielle asked me first if she could ask you. So you think you would like that? You'll have to be a very good girl, and do as you're told. It will be a long day. You'll have to stay awake all day, and be nice to everyone all day, even if you feel tired. You'll have to learn some French too, because Draco and Gabrielle are getting married in France."

"All right, Mummy. I'll be good, I promise."

* * *

The three witches entered the Magical Menagerie. It had been Cho's idea, that Bryony should buy a kitten to reassure her that not all cats were as ferocious as Crookshanks. Of course, there were cats at Gildenford Hall, but they were mainly kept as mousers, for the rambling buildings and outhouses attracted a great number of mice, and none of these felines was treated as a pet.

Even though it was a kitten they sought, Gabrielle intended to have a good look around the shop first, intrigued to see what they had in stock. The owner, a witch who blinked at them from behind thick black spectacles, smiled from behind the counter as they gazed around them at the cages piled high around the walls. The shop was a noisy place, filled with the screeches, trills and whistles of birds, and the cries of various animals. There was also the chatter of young witches and wizards, as they discussed with each other and their adult companions the merits of each magical creature on offer.

The new arrivals walked slowly around the cages, staring into them at animals of every colour, many of them in shades never seen in the Muggle world. Gabrielle admired the tiny lavender blue songbirds, whose sweet tune was so sad it made the listener want to cry. Jane favoured the more cuddly animals, and was very taken with a cage full of pink rabbits with ears at every conceivable angle. "They's Semaphore Rabbits," the proprietress informed them, "They signals with their ears. You can 'ave a conversation with 'em if you 'as the patience."

Meanwhile, Bryony had wandered to the back of the shop, where it was darker away from the windows. Looking into each cage in turn, she first saw large warty toads with wide mouths, and next huge orange snails with glistening shells. Then suddenly she saw a sight that transfixed her: it was the living embodiment of Daddy's cane; for here before her, its head emerging from a tall wicker basket, was a silver-headed cobra. Bryony hardly dared breathe in its presence, for the cobra was uncaged, and the lid of the basket lay on the floor behind it. She felt a thrill run through her as she gazed at its face. The cobra stared at her unblinkingly, tasting the air with its forked tongue, rising hypnotically out of the basket until it hovered over her. Bryony looked into the green jewelled eyes, and was enchanted.

"Hello," she said, feeling that it was rude to stare and say nothing, "Do you like it here? It's very dark."

The snake replied in a soft hissy voice, "Hello, child. I like it here well enough. I can ssee in the dark, my eyess are magical, they collect every last sspark of light."

"But if you're here at the back, nobody will buy you."

"It iss ssurely better here than going home with ssome rough boy who will want to pesster me all the time. I ssleep in my bassket when I hear them come in, with their sshrill voicess, and hope they do not ssee me."

"Do you want to stay here forever?"

"I am waiting for the right misstresss to come along. Someone like you, perhapss?"

Bryony pulled a regretful face. "I do like you," she said, "But we've come to buy a kitten. I don't think Miss Currer will let me buy you instead. But I wish you could meet Daddy. Daddy's cane is just like you!"

Gabrielle had finished listening to the lavender birds' sad song, and she came over to see what Bryony was doing. As she approached, her jaw dropped open in astonishment when she saw the cobra; and then she heard the child. To her ears, it sounded as if Bryony was hissing with an undulating pitch. She watched and waited, and heard the snake hiss back at Bryony in the same manner. Gabrielle would have run forward to protect her, but something made her stay and watch: she realised that both the snake and the child were using the same language, and were conversing easily.

At that moment Jane Currer came up behind her, and gave a loud gasp when she saw her small charge standing in front of the enormous silver cobra, its black-striped head hovering over the child, its tongue darting in and out. She would have grabbed Bryony to pull her clear, but Gabrielle stayed her hand.

"Listen!" she commanded. Jane did so. She did not understand why Bryony was making that strange hissing sound. She turned to Gabrielle with a frown on her face.

"Do you not understand what we are seeing?" demanded Gabrielle in a stage whisper, "Bryony is speaking Parseltongue! And look at 'er! She is not afraid, and the snake is not attacking 'er."

Jane turned from Gabrielle to watch Bryony. It was true, the girl was not afraid, she stood there conversing with the huge serpent as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Nor did she seem to be in any danger, the snake was quite relaxed too. After watching their exchange for a few moments, Jane turned back to Gabrielle. As she spoke, a horrified expression formed on her face: "But almost all known Parselmouths are descendants of Salazar Slytherin, and are connected in some way with He Who Must Not Be Named! The only exception is Harry Potter, and he got his ability from him too! How can Bryony speak Parseltongue?"

Gabrielle shook her head, for she did not know the answer to this riddle either. The Malfoys were only very distantly related to Salazar Slytherin – all the pure blood wizarding families were related in some way. She knew that her prospective father-in-law had been to Azkaban for being a Death Eater, but she was sure that Lucius was not a Parselmouth, and neither was Draco; nor, so far as she knew, was Cho Chang. The stories about Harry Potter's exploits often included mention of his ability as a Parselmouth. If this were a common gift, the fact would not have been considered worthy of note.

Instinctively, the two young women reached for each other's hands, and stared as if mesmerised at the small figure talking to the large, highly venomous cobra. They did not dare to interrupt, lest any disturbance should cause the snake to turn on one of them, or decide after all to attack Bryony

Eventually, Bryony turned around and walked back towards them. The snake's glowing green eyes stared at Jane and Gabrielle as it sank slowly back into the wicker basket.

"Snake wants to come home with me," Bryony told them matter-of-factly, "But I said I getting a kitten instead. I telled it about Daddy's cane."

The two older witches looked at each other meaningfully over her head: here was proof, if more were needed, that she had indeed been speaking Parseltongue. Both decided wordlessly not to make a dramatic issue out of this in front of Bryony, although Gabrielle was busy planning who she would tell about the incident. Then she noticed that Jane was looking anxiously towards the front of the shop, and her own eyes followed the governess' gaze to see that the proprietress was staring at them curiously through her thick glasses.

" 'As she seen anysing unusual, do you sink?" asked Gabrielle quietly. "It is very dark where ze snake is."

Jane shrugged in reply. "She's been busy with her other customers most of the time. Anyway, let's pretend that everything is perfectly normal," she said equally quietly.

"Come, Bryony, I'm sure you've had enough of snails and toads! Let's look at the kittens now, " said Jane firmly, and loudly enough to be heard by the shop owner. She held out her hand to Bryony, and led her to the cages full of cats.

* * *

Back at Malfoy Manor, Gabrielle pondered whom she should tell first about Bryony's ability to speak Parseltongue. She wondered whether to speak to Lucius or Narcissa. She had an uneasy feeling that something was amiss: Parseltongue had a hint of the Dark Arts about it. With the honourable exception of Harry Potter, all known Parselmouths had been dark wizards. Narcissa was dead, and the Dead knew many things unknown to the living; and she was the temporary guardian and former Secret Keeper of the Subtle Knife, which office also brought with it the knowledge of many mysteries. However, Lucius was Bryony's father, and knew her better. Was he perhaps already aware that she was a Parselmouth? Gabrielle finally decided to approach him first, for she and he had shared that near death experience of the World Beyond, and because of this, she felt that she could say anything to him.

She wondered briefly why she had not thought to discuss Bryony's ability with Draco, for he loved his little sister dearly, but she rejected the thought as soon as it occurred; for she could not tell him how she had saved the child from death, and that this made her feel far more intimately connected with Bryony than was usual for a prospective sister-in-law.

She therefore approached Lucius when she knew he was alone in his study. He looked up from his copy of _The Daily Prophet_, and smiled. "Gabrielle, my dear, this is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

Gabrielle shut the door behind her and said, "Monsieur, I 'ave to ask you somesing about Bryony. Today we went to see Cho, about ze dress for ze wedding."

"Yes, I remember you told me yesterday that you were going. You were also going to ask Bryony to be a bridesmaid."

"Yes, zat is correct. She came wiz us to see 'er muzzer at work."

"Us? I thought Draco was banned from seeing the dress until the wedding day?"

"Ah, no, Draco did not come wiz us, you are right. Jane, she came too. She 'ad never been to Diagon Alley before, can you believe it? So I said to 'er, you must see Diagon Alley. Does not every witch love to shop?"

Lucius nodded his understanding. "I see. Do continue."

"First we went to Cho's Chic. I asked Cho, she was 'appy for me to ask Bryony to be a bridesmaid. Of course, Bryony was very 'appy too when I ask 'er. All little girls like to dress up in pretty clozes, _n'est-ce pas_? But zat is not what I want to tell you. After speaking to Cho and choosing ze dress fabric, we went to ze Magical Menagerie. Cho wanted Bryony to buy a kitten, so she would not be afraid of cats, after what 'appened to 'er."

"I did not know, but it sounds like a sensible idea," remarked Lucius, his eyes hardening visibly at the memory of the attack. "Did she choose a cat?"

"Yes, Monsieur, but zat is not what I came to you about eizer. When we went into ze shop, Jane and I, we were busy looking around at all ze cages. We did not notice at first zat Bryony 'ad gone to ze back of ze shop. Zen we followed 'er, and we could not believe what we saw: Bryony was standing in front of a great big snake…"

"What?" thundered Lucius, moving forward in his chair and almost standing up in his agitation. "You and Miss Currer allowed her to come into contact with a second dangerous animal after what just happened to her?"

"Please, Monsieur, calm yourself. She was in no danger, I promise you. Jane and I, we could not believe our ears. Bryony was talking to ze snake. Did you know she is a Parselmouse?"

"What did you say?" Lucius stared at Gabrielle in disbelief.

"I see you did not know. But per'aps she 'as not met a snake before?"

Gabrielle looked at Lucius, and she could see he was thinking hard. Finally he said, "Bryony has been to that shop before. What small girl does not enjoy such an emporium, especially the more cuddly animals they stock? I am trying to remember whether she ever met a snake there before. I know Draco used to like the snakes they stocked when he was a boy, so I presume they have always sold snakes." He frowned with concentration. "Ah, I remember now!" he said, "Yes, she did see a small snake there when she was younger. She thought its colour was pretty, but she preferred something with fur that she could stroke. And she did not attempt to speak to it. But she was very young, she was still mastering English. It occurs to me that I know nothing of the development of the ability of Parselmouths to speak Parseltongue. I do not know whether a very young child would have the gift, or whether the talent usually appears later." He looked searchingly at Gabrielle. "You are concerned about this ability, are you not?"

She met his eyes as she replied carefully, "Monsieur, I know of your 'istory. You were a follower of 'E Oo Must Not Be Named. Per'aps for you it is not such a wonder, but you must see zat for most witches and wizards, a Parselmouse is a dark witch."

Lucius nodded slightly. "Yes, I see your point. I appreciate that you would not wish to be linked to a family whose notorious past might at any moment become the subject of gossip once more. No, my dear, do not deny it. The Malfoys are in the main regarded as respectable wizards nowadays. I will never apologise for my views on the purity of wizarding blood, but it has been many years since the wizarding war; and since Lord Voldemort's demise, the members of both camps have agreed a form of truce: old enmities are not raised in polite company, and we surviving ex Death Eaters have been rehabilitated. It would not be politic to remind people of those dark days, and especially not so for your family.

"Therefore, it would be expedient not to speak of this outside the family. I will meanwhile research what is known about Parselmouths. I trust I can rely on your discretion?"

"Of course, Monsieur."


	18. Chapter 18

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 18**

The next day, Lucius looked across at his daughter, and wondered how to raise the question of her Parselmouth abilities. Bryony was spending the day with him, one of her last free weekdays before she was due to resume her lessons. It was raining a soft, fine drizzle outside, and the sky was grey enough to need the lamps lit inside the Manor. Bryony had brought her new kitten with her to show Daddy: it was a bundle of mostly white fur, with a black patch over one side of its face. The animal had firstly darted about playfully, and then succeeded in embedding its claws, which it had not yet learnt to control, in the material of Bryony's skirt. Lucius was not in general fond of kittens, but bore the antics of this one because it amused his child, and he thanked Merlin that Bryony was wearing traditional robes with a full skirt, else those sharp little claws might have ended up digging into her thigh instead of becoming entangled in her clothing. He examined the situation, and used his wand to free the beast. He was relieved to see that the kitten was tiring, and soon it lay down by the fire, and fell instantly asleep as young creatures do.

"So, have you chosen a name for the kitten?" he asked his daughter, as she came to sit on his knee. He put his arm about her.

"Yes. She called Nudge."

"It suits her. Why did you choose that name?" asked Lucius, stroking Bryony's hair.

"Gabrielle said Nudge French for snow, and she's a white cat."

"Oh, you mean Neige."

"That's what I said, Daddy! Nudge!"

"Yes, of course you did, I'm sorry. Anyway, she's sleeping now, you must have tired her out." He leant back in his chair, Bryony's dark head against his chest. "So, you chose the best animal in the shop!" he said, hoping this would provoke a response.

Bryony looked up at him. "Daddy, I saw a snake there too! Just like your cane! It wanted me to buy it, but I said I getting a kitten."

So there was no doubt at all that Bryony had been talking to a snake, and what was far more important, that she had understood the replies. Lucius kept his voice level as he asked her, "What did it say to you?"

"It hide when rough boys come into the shop. It doesn't like them."

"How does it hide from them?"

"At the bottom of the basket. It's right at the back. It's dark at the back."

"At the back of the shop?"

"Yes, Daddy. You can go and see. I telled it about your cane."

"Did you ask the snake's name?"

Bryony looked up. "No," she said. Then she frowned. "It called Naja," she said, uncertainly.

"How do you know if you did not ask, my little witch?"

"Daddy, I just know. It called Naja," Bryony insisted.

Lucius did not know what to make of this information. His daughter's being a Parselmouth was remarkable in itself, but her apparent knowledge of something the snake had not told her was seemingly impossible. Lucius believed in magic of course, but all magic had an explanation: there were rules and rituals. That was why people sent their children to establishments like Hogwarts: to learn how to use magic. If it were solely a matter of chance whether one could do it or not, such schooling would be unnecessary. Lucius had never heard of mind-reading that was not in reality a trick of some kind, if one excluded legilimency, for Bryony was far too young to be a Legilimens. He understood that Muggle so-called "magicians" took money from their gullible audiences for displaying such apparent ability. Lucius reluctantly congratulated them on their ingenuity: their credulous public deserved to be exploited.

But what was happening here? Bryony was a mere child, and too innocent to have invented this tale. Gabrielle had been right to be concerned: something strange was occurring with his daughter, and Lucius was determined to discover its cause.

* * *

Lucius needed to visit Borgin and Burkes. It was some considerable time since he had called there. Nowadays, living as a semi recluse, and with his Death Eater past set firmly behind him, he rarely had the need for dark magic items, or any further interest in them. But he now had a sudden urge to divest himself of the last Dark Arts objects remaining in his possession, and had set the house elves to spring clean the secret chamber under the dining room floor. Malfoy Manor had been raided while Lucius was in Azkaban, but the chamber had been too well hidden both physically and magically, and had escaped the searchers. Lucius had also carefully left a large number of suspect items hidden where they could be more easily found, in readiness for such an eventuality. Having discovered this other hiding place after a long search, the aurors were satisfied that they had found all Lucius' illegal hoard. He had kept these last few remaining objects mainly for sentimental reasons – if one could call reminders of nights of torture and murder "sentimental" – but he had finally decided that in order to be a good father, he should no longer have such items in the house. When Bryony was older, she might discover the existence of the chamber. He did not wish to retain any item which he could not explain to his daughter, or that would embarrass him in front of Cho.

Surprisingly, even after the demise of the Dark Lord, there was still a ready market for such Dark Arts items. Borgin's business had seemingly not suffered at all from Voldemort's defeat. It remained, as before, behind its dark façade on Knockturn Alley, outwardly gloomy and forbidding, but with the temptation always associated with the illicit. Nowadays, it was fashionable among rich young wizards to buy items from Borgin, and to display them openly as a kind of retro chic, with a total disregard for their Dark Arts associations. Their parents and grandparents were often shocked by this attitude, but their protests were dismissed as old-fashioned. Lucius, in contrast, found this new situation rather amusing, and also greatly to his advantage, for he would be able to command a good price for such rare and valuable objects. His sudden desire to do the right thing was in no small part due to the current boom in the Dark Arts market.

Lucius was busy in the secret chamber sorting out what to take to Borgin when Draco came down the ladder. The secret trapdoor was open at the moment, and Draco had known about the chamber since he was a child. Gabrielle was safely absent, visiting an old acquaintance from her stay at Hogwarts. Draco asked his father what he was doing, surprised to see how clean the room was, for he remembered it as a dusty place, with cobwebs catching in his hair, spiders watching through their multiple eyes from gloomy corners, and mice scurrying over the floor away from the light.

"I'm deciding which items to sell to Borgin," said Lucius, wrapping a blackened shrunken head carefully in muslin. "It is time I disposed of my souvenirs. Times are changing. You are about to be married to Gabrielle, and you have a small sister who will grow up to be at least as curious as you were."

Draco did not argue, he could see Lucius' reasoning, but he did ask if he could look around and see if there was anything he wished to keep for himself.

Lucius looked hard at his son. "Draco, I will not refuse you, but think very carefully before you choose anything that could incriminate the family further. I have served my time in Azkaban for only a fraction of the deaths for which I am responsible. I am not sorry for any of them, they were Muggles, Mudbloods and blood traitors all; but I have no desire to see the inside of a prison cell again. I am older now, and I hope wiser, at least wise enough not to wish to go back to the way we were. The Dark Lord is gone forever. His reign was doomed, he became more enamoured of his own glory than the end we all sought: it was not enough for him that we should turn all wizards into believers in blood purity, he wished us to worship him. He also betrayed us, for he was himself a half-blood. He did not tell us that his father was a Muggle.

"But enough of Voldemort. You are about to marry into a respectable French wizarding family. You surely do not wish to jeopardise that? Your fiancée is part Veela, she has powers you cannot fathom. It would be very unwise to allow her to see any of these objects, or even to sense they exist. Unless you can find something to keep that has no obvious link to any Death Eater activity, I recommend you allow me to dispose of everything."

Draco nodded his agreement, and looked around the chamber; but everything he saw was some memento Lucius had saved after the death of one of his victims. Regretfully, he decided his father was right, and everything should go to Borgin.

"Can I come with you then, Father?" he asked, "Perhaps I can buy something in the shop instead. I haven't been to Borgin and Burkes since I came home. I'd like to have a look round the old place."

Lucius agreed, and a plan was made to go to Knockturn Alley in two days' time, allowing him time to sort and pack everything beforehand. Meanwhile, Draco was to keep Gabrielle out of the way while Lucius was busy in the secret chamber, although he would also keep the secret entrance closed and warded for extra security.

"What do you plan to tell Gabrielle when we go to see Borgin?" asked Lucius, "Or does she have other plans for that day too?"

"She has an appointment to see Cho at the shop again," replied Draco. "It took so long to choose the fabric for her wedding dress that they didn't have time to choose a style, apparently. I think we can safely assume she will be busy for quite a while. She's taking Bryony with her too, to choose something for her to wear."

Lucius nodded. "I remember now, Cho told me the same thing. As Gabrielle is returning to France shortly, they want to arrange everything before she leaves, so that when she next returns, she will have a mock-up to try on. But Bryony is growing too fast to measure her yet for a dress, Cho merely wishes to decide on the fabric.

"We should arrange to meet them afterwards. We do not need to tell the witches that we were in Knockturn Alley. We can have lunch at the Italian restaurant near Gringotts. It will be good for Bryony to eat out in company, it will give her chance to show off her table manners in public. And it will be a reminder of Venice for you: the owner is Venetian, and loves to talk of the lagoon."

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was dreaming a little. From her position on the wall, she could see out of the window, and admire the bright colours of the foliage smudged into pastels by the slight mist. She was picturing her son's wedding, her beautiful daughter-in-law looking ethereal in a white and silver gown, every man's eyes drawn irresistibly to gaze at her; her son a stark contrast in well tailored black robes with a subtle silver trim, his eyes only for his radiant bride.

Then she heard the bedroom door open, and became suddenly alert. She turned her head, expecting to see Draco or Lucius, and instead saw Jane Currer. Jane came and stood before Narcissa, greeting her respectfully: "Good afternoon, Mrs Malfoy."

"Good afternoon, Miss Currer. This is an unexpected pleasure. I don't believe we have met above a handful of times, and then always in the presence of your charge. To what do I owe this honour?" She saw Jane hesitate, and then the governess spoke:

"I would like to ask your advice, if you can spare me the time."

"Time is something of which I have an infinite amount," remarked Narcissa. "Advice? You have piqued my curiosity. Pray, take a seat, and ask away."

Jane sat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, and Narcissa waited for her to choose her words.

"Mrs Malfoy, I find myself in a difficult situation. When I started working for Miss Chang, Lucius took a lot of interest in Bryony's education. He came to Gildenford Hall often to speak to me about what she was learning – and to see Bryony too of course. I was flattered that Lucius paid me so much attention, for he not only talked about Bryony, he asked about me too, and seemed genuinely interested in my answers."

Narcissa listened to Jane Currer, and noted her use of Lucius' given name, whereas she called Cho "Miss Chang"; and also noted the way Jane flushed a little every time she said "Lucius". Narcissa had an inkling of where this was leading, and felt slightly amazed that Lucius had decided to pay any attention at all to this rather plain and very severely dressed witch. No doubt she was unused to such attention from any wizard at all. The girl was suffering from an infatuation, that was all.

She was therefore completely unprepared when Jane continued, her face magenta with embarrassment, "… then he asked me if I was a virgin, and I said I was. He then asked me if I was saving myself for my husband. I thought he was being cruel. I know I am not pretty, and am unlikely ever to marry. But no, he said he was asking because, if I had no moral objection, he would like to be my first."

Narcissa's years of perfecting a face that showed little of what she was really thinking now stood her in good stead. In reality, she was astonished; but to Jane she presented a face merely registering interest in the speaker's words. She paused a little, and then said in reply, "And so you went to him. Who could resist such an invitation? I know I did not. Your first experience of the act of love was with Lucius, who has had years to perfect his technique, and knows better than any man how to please a woman. So now of course, you are in love with him. For what witch would not fall in love with a man after that experience?"

"Yes, I am in love with Lucius," replied Jane simply.

"My dear child, you are not the first, and you will not be the last. Women fall at Lucius' feet. He has that effect on us all. However, he remains unaffected. He accepts the adulation as his due."

"That is what I am afraid of," whispered Jane. "I do not know what he truly feels for me. But Mrs Malfoy, you forget, he is changed since your time as his wife. The fire affected him greatly. He told me he had not made love to a woman for three years when he made his offer to me. He would not allow any to look at him, he feared rejection so."

Narcissa nodded slowly. She had forgotten that fact. When Lucius called to see her, it shocked her anew each time when she saw his face, although she was careful not to let Lucius see this. It was as if her memories of him had frozen on the day of her death. "So you think perhaps he feels something for you?" she said. "Gratitude perhaps?" she added, deliberately cruelly.

"I do not know what he feels for me. Mrs Malfoy, I know you think I am young and foolish, but please allow me to continue; or if you prefer, I shall leave you in peace." Jane rose as if to leave.

Narcissa felt a new respect for the girl: she had spirit. She began to see a little why Lucius might have noticed this plain governess, if she stood up to him in the same manner. "Please sit down, Miss Currer. I will try not to interrupt again." Jane took her seat on the ottoman once more.

"Mrs Malfoy, before I allowed Lucius to make love to me, I asked him about Miss Chang. I did not wish to accept his offer if he and Miss Chang were a couple, in spite of living in separate houses. He told me they had parted: he drove Miss Chang away because he would not allow her to see his injuries, and also because he became addicted to whisky and laudanum, and Miss Chang did not wish Bryony to see her father in such a state.

"So I went to him. I will never regret it, whatever happens.

"But then something happened to change everything again: Bryony accidentally ate some laburnum peas. I assume you know the details?" Narcissa nodded to show that she had been kept informed. "That accident brought Lucius and Miss Chang together again. It was more than concern for Bryony, I could see they still cared for each other while they waited in the hospital. But that was not all – I heard them in the night…"

Jane's wide grey eyes pleaded with the portrait to understand, so that she need not describe the sounds in the night. Narcissa, however, wished there to be no room for doubt. "You heard them making love?" she said matter-of-factly. Jane nodded, crimson once more.

"So what do you want to ask me?"

"What to do now. I went to China for a week when I received an unexpected invitation. I thought it would give me time to think, separated from people and events here, and that being busy elsewhere would take my mind off Lucius. But instead, I found I dreamt about him, and I even imagined that he called out my name once during the day. So far, since I returned I have not seen Lucius. But I do not know if I can bear to see him together with Miss Chang when I feel this way about him."

"Then leave," said Narcissa airily. "There are always jobs available for a good governess. You would get an excellent reference, would you not?"

"But I love Bryony! And I love Gildenford Hall, and the Changs are very good employers."

"Then stay, and learn to let him go, like so many women have done before you. Or stay, and be his mistress, like Miss Chang was while I yet lived. If you think Lucius will still want you now she is warming his bed once more.

"Miss Currer, what do you expect me to say? The choices are obvious. Only you can decide which one will suit you best. Why did you really come to see me?"

"Mrs Malfoy, I came because I wanted to ask you: how did you bear it? Lucius had so many mistresses while you were his wife. How could you share him?"

"Miss Currer, it was the price I paid for loving Lucius. He would never have stayed with a woman who clung to him, who pleaded and sighed because he wished to seek his pleasures elsewhere. You are extremely fortunate that at present there is only Miss Chang. If you love Lucius, you must allow him to do as he will. Or walk away. In time, if he has not done so already, he will no doubt tire of you. But you will always have the consolation that for a short while, he shared himself with you. Many women would envy you even that."


	19. Chapter 19

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 19**

At the appointed time, Lucius, Draco, Gabrielle and Bryony sat down at a table by the window of the Ristorante Ponte di Rialto in Diagon Alley. Cho had been invited to join them, but as expected, she had a full appointment diary, and was obliged to refuse. Jane Currer had been expected to accompany Gabrielle and Bryony to Cho's Chic, but had developed a sudden headache when she learned that Lucius and Draco were to meet them, asking to remain behind at Gildenford Hall. In reality, she had used this opportunity to slip quietly into Malfoy Manor to speak to the late Mrs Malfoy.

Bryony was excited at this day out, partly because she was supposed to be having lessons, and also because she rarely ate anywhere but at one of her homes. She was fascinated by the Italian waiter with hair and eyes as dark as her own, who addressed her as "Signorina". He tied a large white napkin around her neck before she ate, telling her that tomato sauce stained very badly, and it would be a shame to get any on her pretty robes. Following her delicious pasta, after whispered instructions from Lucius, the waiter brought her a glass dish of multicoloured ice cream he described as "especially for little witches who have been very good today". It was a child-sized portion, decorated like a hedgehog with slender sticks of chocolate. The waiter set fire to the ends of the sticks with his wand, and the hot chocolate melted slowly all over the ice cream, much to Bryony's delight.

As she ate her dessert, accompanied by Gabrielle, who had decided to treat herself to some Italian pistachio ice cream, watched indulgently by her father and amusedly by her brother, Bryony looked out of the window at Diagon Alley. She saw another alley leading off the main street, almost opposite the restaurant.

"Where does that go?" she asked, pointing with her spoon.

"Bryony, don't talk with your mouth full. And don't use your cutlery to point, it's very bad manners," said Lucius, but he did not sound annoyed. Bryony swallowed her ice cream, and now that her mouth was empty, she repeated the question, pointing with her free hand. She waited expectantly.

"It doesn't really go anywhere," replied her father. "It's a dead end."

Bryony considered this as she ate another mouthful. She made sure not to speak until she had finished it. "But what there?" she asked, "More shops?"

Lucius kept his voice neutral as he replied, "Yes, there are one or two shops down there."

"Anysing interesting?" asked Gabrielle, who naturally knew as little as Bryony about the place, for she had not had time to visit every shop in Diagon Alley.

"I doubt you would be interested, my dear. Mostly rather dusty old-fashioned places."

"I would like to see zem," said Gabrielle. "My fazer likes unusual sings. It would be nice if I could take somesing interesting back 'ome for 'im."

"Can we go look, Daddy?" asked Bryony eagerly, for the way Gabrielle had spoken, perhaps there were some interesting things there after all. Gabrielle was a girl too, she should know better what girls liked than Daddy did.

Daddy wanted to say no, but it was of course impossible: Bryony alone he might have been able to convince, but Gabrielle was entirely another matter. He was only relieved that he had already warned Borgin not to speak of their earlier visit to anyone. He hoped the obsequious old fool would remember long enough not to create an awkward situation in front of the witches. Hiding his reluctance, Lucius agreed.

Bryony finished her _gelato_ while the adults drank tiny cups of espresso, and Draco discussed Venice with the owner, who came to speak to them when he learned that Signor Malfoy was here with his family. Bryony could not follow what they said because they spoke in Italian, but she was content to enjoy her ice cream, and gaze at the passers by. Finally, the bill was paid, Lucius cleaned up Bryony's face with a quick "Tergeo" and a flick of his wand, and they all left the restaurant to walk along Knockturn Alley.

Gabrielle peered into the windows of each place they passed. The alley was poorly lit, for the upper storeys of the buildings on each side projected beyond the ground floor, and almost met above their heads. For the most part, there was nothing attractive to be seen on display: the windows were streaky and no lights were showing behind the glass. The buildings themselves were in a sad state of repair, with badly peeling paintwork.

However, Borgin and Burkes had made a little more effort. Now that Borgin knew he was attracting mainstream customers and not just the dark wizards on whom he had previously relied, he had set brighter lamps in the shop, so that anyone peering in should see not only the idiosyncratic display of unusual objects immediately behind the somewhat cleaner windows, but also shelves of further intriguing items on sale inside. Gabrielle's attention was caught immediately, and she led them all inside through the freshly painted black door to look more closely. Draco strolled nonchalantly over to look once again at the human bones that had attracted him earlier in the day. Bryony was close on Gabrielle's heels, her eyes wide with astonishment at what she saw. Lucius stepped into the shop last of all, and managed to catch Borgin's eye. He glared hard at the man.

Borgin gave a shark's smile that did not reach his eyes, and said smoothly, "Ah, Mr Malfoy! What a pleasure to see you. It must be many months since you were last here. How are you? And young Mr Malfoy. And are these two charming ladies with you too?"

"Borgin," said Lucius in acknowledgement, inclining his head slightly, and permitting a ghost of a smile to play over his lips in response to the shop owner's smooth greeting. "My son is recently returned from the continent. This is Mademoiselle Delacour, his fiancée, and the child is my daughter, Bryony."

Gabrielle shook Borgin's hand, trying hard not to flinch and withdraw her hand from his grip, for he felt greasy to the touch. But she retained her Gallic poise, and smiled charmingly at the shopkeeper. She explained that she was looking for an unusual gift for her father, and Borgin at once began to fawn over her, and endeavour to determine what manner of object would satisfy her, all the while boasting of the many well-connected young witches and wizards who had recently honoured him with their custom.

Meanwhile, Bryony was looking around the shop. As she was much smaller than the adults, her eye level was therefore much lower, and she was browsing the shelves at her own height. She stopped in front of a shiny object that attracted her attention, both because of the way it reflected the light and because of its unusual shape. She put out her hand, and picked it up. The object was made of a reddish-gold metal. It was somewhat bigger than her hand, flat, and shaped a little like a letter T. The shaft of the T broadened towards the head of the T, which itself was shaped rather like an arrowhead. At the base of the T was an animal head, the metal here thicker than the flat T, so that the head was three-dimensional. The animal held the shaft of the T in its mouth. A small hole passed right through the head from ear to ear. The flat parts of the T were decorated with an ornate knot pattern, and also with strange marks that might have been letters.

Bryony was both puzzled and charmed. She had never seen anything like it before, and she did not know what it was, but she felt a sudden overwhelming urge to possess it. She picked it up, and almost put it in her pocket, but then she gasped aloud at her own dishonesty, and instead went over to her father, who was pretending to examine some jet mourning jewellery. Bryony tugged at Lucius' sleeve, and held out her hand with the shiny object lying on her small palm.

"Daddy, I like this. Can I have it?" she asked, looking her most appealing.

Lucius took the item from her, and turned it over in his hands. He had assumed initially that it was merely a trinket of some kind, but then he looked more carefully, and could not believe his eyes. Lucius glanced over to Borgin, noting that he was busy with Gabrielle. He would have pocketed the item were it not for the fact that his daughter was watching him seriously. He smiled at her. "Yes, you can have it," he told her, "As long as you remember the magic word."

"Please!" said Bryony, her face breaking out into a wide smile. Then, "What is it Daddy?"

"Well, it's a pendant first of all. See the hole here?" He showed her the hole in the animal head, and Bryony nodded. "The chain goes through here. It's meant for a grown man. It's a very special sort of pendant. It's a bit too large for a little witch to wear, I think, but you can put it in your treasure box. Come on, let's ask Mr Borgin how much he wants for it. I'll tell you all about it when we get home. I can show you a book with pictures of these pendants."

When Lucius asked Borgin the price of the pendant, he could have sworn the man stared at the item as if he had never seen it before, but he made a swift recovery, and named a sum. Lucius then knew immediately from the price he asked that Borgin, whether or not he had forgotten that he had the pendant, had absolutely no idea what he really had in his possession. Lucius calmly bargained with him until he had reduced the price by half, and handed over three gold galleons.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle had decided on a Transylvanian silver mask for her father. Lucius watched as she too bargained very effectively with Borgin, and then persuaded him to gift wrap the item too. Borgin seemed in a trance as he finished off her parcel with a black bow – something Lucius had never seen Borgin do for anyone before – and he saw the shopkeeper's face form a somewhat gruesome picture as his mouth twisted itself into an unfamiliar grimace, baring his yellow spiky teeth. Lucius smiled to himself at the power of a Veela over mere mortal wizards. Gabrielle smiled sweetly back at Borgin, and Lucius ushered his party swiftly out of the shop lest the man should swoon in response.

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco and Gabrielle went outside to play croquet together, while Lucius took his daughter to his study, where he quickly found the book he was seeking. It was very old and heavy, with a thick leather binding, and Bryony could not read any of the letters, for it was written in an old-fashioned script. However, the book had many beautiful drawings, some coloured with bright inks. Lucius placed the book on his desk, and hunted through it. When he found the right page, he pulled Bryony on to his knee so that they could look at the pictures together. He pointed at the drawings he had found. Bryony was delighted, for the pictures were almost the same as her pendant; but none had an animal head.

"See, Bryony, your pendant is the Hammer of Thor. I think it's very old; so old that Hogwarts School, where you will go when you are 11, had not yet been built. In those days, wizards came to England from across the sea. They were fierce warriors, and they often wore pendants like yours. Thor was their favourite god, and his hammer was worn as a good luck charm, to give the wearer strength in battle. Look at this picture, it looks very like yours."

Bryony looked from her new treasure to the illustration in the book. "But mine has a animal head too, Daddy."

"Yes, my clever girl, it has a lion. See the mane around his face? I think yours is more special with a lion. Lions are very strong and brave, so I think it was put on the pendant to make the wearer strong and brave too.

"Bryony, you're tired now, I can see. You've had an exciting day. Do you want to lie on my sofa and have a nap?"

Bryony was indeed drooping now after her eventful trip to Diagon Alley. Lucius laid his daughter carefully on the sofa, and covered her with a rug. He sat by her awhile, and waited till she fell asleep.

Then he took the pendant back to his desk, took a magnifying glass from a drawer, and began to search the shelves for a book on ancient runes.

* * *

Cho was lying on the sofa in her sitting room at Gildenford Hall, finally able to relax. She had just read Bryony her bedtime story, kissed her goodnight, and tucked her in. Now she stretched out luxuriously, sinking her head into a down cushion. She concentrated on releasing the tension from each of her muscles in turn. She closed her eyes, and felt herself begin to drift into that world halfway between waking and sleeping. She knew that if she remained here, she would inevitably fall asleep, but she was so comfortable that making any move would require far too much effort. Cho wriggled with satisfaction.

She heard a slight sound, and tried to open her eyes to see what had caused it, but her eyelids felt so heavy they would not open. Then she felt a light touch on her knee. Cho was wearing a working dress whose skirts ended just below her knees, and in lying down she had forgotten to smooth them, hence they had arranged themselves so that her lower thighs were exposed. A warm hand caressed her knee gently, and then began to explore gradually higher, passing smoothly over her silk stockings. She knew the hand of course; in her present relaxed state, his touch was so sensuous. Deliberately, she did not move, enjoying the feeling. The hand continued higher, and when it met the flesh above her stocking, an involuntary sigh escaped from her lips. Gentle fingers ran themselves around her thigh, following the line of her stocking top. Then a second hand began on her other leg, repeating the slow progress upwards. Almost unconsciously, Cho moved her legs apart a little further, and pushed her hips a little higher. When this second hand caressed her naked thigh, she finally opened her eyes to see: Lucius was sitting on a footstool beside the other end of the sofa, his hair and face golden in the lamplight. He smiled at her, and his hands rested a moment on the soft skin of her inner thighs as he said, "Hello, my love. Did I wake you? No, I did not think you were really asleep. Close your eyes again. Enjoy Lucius' helping hands!"

Smiling, Cho's eyes closed almost of their own accord. Lucius' hands now stroked her upper thighs, as he kissed her lower thighs through the silk. He worked his way upwards again, almost agonisingly slowly. When he reached her briefs, she almost stopped breathing, wondering what he would do next. He left her tingling with anticipation for a while, then one fingernail was drawn gently over the top of her briefs, down the midline of her public hair, ending at her vaginal opening. The feeling was electric: she shivered, and felt herself becoming wet with desire. The action was repeated, and she almost groaned with frustration: she knew Lucius well enough by now, he revelled in being unpredictable. He was an expert at prolonging the moment, he could tease her to the edge of desperation before satisfying her longing for him; or if the whim took him, he would have her as soon as she was ready for him. She kept her eyes closed, waiting.

One hand slid under each buttock over her silky briefs: Cho was glad she had taken to wearing silk every day, for nowadays she never knew when Lucius would see her underwear, and in the past had often chosen the practical over the glamorous for daytime. She felt him lift and squeeze her behind, and meanwhile hot breath on her belly warned her that his face was near. He kissed her through her briefs, lingering as he approached her most sensitive parts. Then suddenly she heard Lucius murmur quietly, "Evanesco," and the silken layer separating her from Lucius vanished. This was something new: Cho's eyes flashed open.

Lucius leered at her, "Don't worry, my love. Afterwards, we can conjure as many new pairs as you like." He squeezed her buttocks again, and she saw his head go down once more. A moment later she felt his lips on her lips, his tongue probing her. She opened her legs and abandoned herself to bliss, as fingers, lips and tongue caressed and licked her. Cho moaned and angled herself towards the source of her pleasure. When finally Lucius' tongue touched her clitoris, Cho was desperate for him. He relented now, and thrust his rigid tongue deep into her hooded cleft to lick her rapidly to an ecstatic climax. As she shuddered, the waves of pleasure almost causing her to black out, he wrapped his arms tightly around her pelvis, and lay his silky head on her belly.

When she finally lay still, Lucius stood up, and then lifted her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, where he pulled back the bedclothes, laid her down on the bed, and swiftly removed her remaining clothing, lingering over her breasts and stroking her legs as he peeled down her stockings. He then undressed himself completely, no longer afraid to be seen; and she saw that his body had maintained its interest in hers with each sensuous touch. She opened her legs once more, and Lucius knelt between them, guiding himself into her with one hand. She felt him thrust deep inside her, and she drew him in as she wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself to him even further. They moved together in unison, their breathing ragged, small moans of pleasure escaping from each of them; and as Lucius climaxed, he triggered a second orgasm deep inside Cho: she lay still momentarily, then suddenly contracted around his shaft as his seed spilled into her.

Later, they lay together under the covers facing each other, their heads on adjacent pillows, Lucius' arms around Cho. Lucius spoke: "Cho, are you still sleepy? Because if not I have something I want to say; but if you are as tired as you were when I arrived, then it can wait till tomorrow."

"No, I'm not too tired to listen. In fact, you've woken me up rather well!" She smiled as she said this, and flushed slightly. "What is it?"

"I should really have spoken of this before, I'm sorry for procrastinating. Cho, has Jane told you about Bryony in the Magical Menagerie?"

"Ah!" Cho stiffened and looked serious. "So you do know too! Did Gabrielle tell you?"

"Yes, she did. Let us be clear that we are both talking of the same matter. Bryony is a Parselmouth. She confirmed this to me herself when she brought the kitten to show me. She reported to me what the snake said to her. But there is even more than that. She claims she knows the snake's name, but says it did not tell her this fact.

"Cho, I am ashamed to say that I am relieved that it was not I who had to reveal to you that our daughter speaks Parseltongue. But I would like your honest reaction to the news."

Cho looked deeply into Lucius' cool grey eyes. This matter had been preying on her mind, for Jane had reported the incident to Bryony's mother on the evening of the day it happened. Each night when she saw Lucius - and nowadays this was almost every night - she had wondered how to raise the subject with him, given all the associations between Parselmouths and the Dark Arts, and Lucius' former Death Eater status.

Now she said, "Honestly? I really don't know what to think. Everyone always associates Parseltongue with He Who Must Not Be Named. But I suppose it's not really only dark wizards who can speak it?" She refrained from mentioning Harry Potter in front of Lucius, but the fact of his ability was some comfort to her. Cho then frowned as she recalled what Lucius had also just said. "Bryony says she knows the snake's name but it didn't tell her? That is odd. Perhaps it was written on the snake's basket? She can read short words."

Lucius pursed his lips. "She said it was called Naja. That is a short name. Maybe you are right." But he did not sound convinced.

They spoke a little more on the subject, and Lucius said that he would try to find out more about Parselmouths. "I am sorry, Cho. Now I see you have been worrying. We should have shared this before. But, my love, never be afraid again to raise such a thing with me. My past is what it is, I cannot change it; but you know I would do anything for you and Bryony."

It was not until Cho was once again in that drifting halfway state between wakefulness and sleep that she realised what else had been noted and filed away in the recesses of her mind.

When speaking of Bryony's governess, instead of the formal "Miss Currer" he was accustomed to use, Lucius had referred to her as "Jane".


	20. Chapter 20

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 20**

Lucius Malfoy walked into the unfamiliar surroundings of the library at Transpires University. Here he did not know his way about, and he lacked his usual confidence, although this would not have been apparent to an observer, for he carried himself with his usual arrogance.

The university library was a highly unusual building: the concentration of so much knowledge in one place had created a strong magical field. This had formed a space that was multi-dimensional, containing far more books than would apparently fit into the building, thus it was possible to get hopelessly lost in the stacks if one did not take care. There was also the possibility of attack from some of the more dangerous works. Therefore, if anyone wished to read anything that was not contained in the limited Undergraduate Collection, they were not permitted to wander among the grimoires and reference books without a member of the library staff as a guide. Numerous signs stating this fact were posted around the library, plus the entrance to the stacks was protected by intruder charms.

Lucius therefore approached the library enquiry desk, his head held high. When he reached it, and finally realised who was sitting behind the desk, he could hardly believe his eyes: it was Hermione Granger, swathed in the anonymous dark blue academic gown of a Transpires professor. For her part, Hermione was absorbed in the book in front of her, and looked up with a start when she realised someone was waiting to speak to her. She opened her mouth to apologise for not noticing him, but the words died on her lips when her eyes reached Lucius' face.

This was a public place, and so these two enemies would both behave with decorum, although it took each of them a short while to recover their equilibrium. Hermione spoke first: "Good morning, Mr Malfoy. How may I help you?" Her voice was calm, but her eyes were wary.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," replied Lucius, managing to inject a sneer into the words of greeting. "I did not expect to see you here. I understood you were doing research into the Dark Arts, and lecturing part-time. I did not realise that you had become a librarian too. Is there no end to your abilities?"

"I am not a librarian, I'm a part-time library assistant," Hermione replied evenly. "Were you looking for something in particular, Mr Malfoy?" She looked at him with a slight smile, for of course he was seeking something in particular, else why was he here? And if he wished to pursue his line of enquiry today, he had no option but to ask Professor Granger, for she was the only person on duty.

Lucius stood awhile and considered. He was seeking information on two subjects, and finally he decided that one at least was innocuous enough. "I am looking for something on the founders of Hogwarts. I have seen the relevant section of _Hogwarts: a History_, but I would like to see more." He saw that Hermione was impressed by this statement. In fact, he had not read the tome at all, but knew enough about the book to be sure that the information he sought would not be in it. He only claimed to have read the book because he knew, from Draco's complaints many years ago, that the Granger girl had read everything on the Hogwarts reading list. "I wish to know about the founders before they founded the school. I would prefer a volume with accurate illustrations, if such a thing exists."

Hermione nodded. "And do you have a special interest in any one of the founders?" she asked pointedly. Lucius stared her down, and decided to play with her. "Yes, I do as a matter of fact." He waited a few moments, and then said, "Godric Gryffindor. But information about the others would be useful too."

He saw Miss Granger was surprised, and smirked a little. He waited while she went over to the enormous card index housed in a huge oak cabinet with numerous tiny drawers. This covered two walls, and reached so high that it disappeared from view. Hermione took out her wand, speaking a spell as she flicked it. Drawers shot open, and a number of cards flew into her extended hand, arranging themselves neatly into a pile.

As she shuffled through the selected index cards, Lucius looked down at Professor Granger's vacated desk. He had years of practice reading upside down from his days at the Ministry of Magic, where he had always surreptitiously read everything visible on Fudge's desk; thus allowing him both to keep one step ahead of the irritating man at work, and also to monitor the Ministry's attempts to identify or deal with Death Eaters. So now, he read the book Miss Granger had been reading, curious to know what the annoying Mudblood was up to. He almost gasped out loud when he saw the running title at the head of the page: _Parselmouths: their origin and influence_. The page at which the book was open was about the development of Parseltongue in young children.

Was this a coincidence? Lucius asked himself. The second subject on which he required information was Parseltongue: he wanted to know if his daughter was developing this language in a normal manner for a Parselmouth, or whether it was more likely that something had happened to make her gain the ability; and if so, what could have caused this to happen? Lucius thought carefully. Miss Granger could not know that Bryony was a Parselmouth, could she? Unless someone had told her? He then remembered that Gabrielle Delacour knew Hermione; indeed, felt the same bond with her that she felt with Cho, because of their joint experience in the lake at Hogwarts. Gabrielle had been visiting a friend from Hogwarts when Lucius was clearing out his secret chamber. Whom had she been to see? Lucius had asked Gabrielle to keep secret the fact that Bryony was a Parselmouth, but what if she had shared her worries with the Mudblood witch instead?

Lucius felt a great desire to demand from the Granger woman what she had learned about Parselmouths; but he would not demean himself, it was bad enough having to ask her permission to see books on the Hogwarts founders. Miss Granger was now coming back towards him, scanning the cards in her hand. "There are quite a few books that mention the founders, but I narrowed the choice down to these eight, because they seem to have more information than the rest. Edmund the Scrivener wrote a book on each of the founders, but they are very old indeed, written just after the school was founded. Can you read ancient Futhorc runes?" she looked up at him, waiting for a reply.

"Only a little," said Lucius stiffly, furious at having to make this admission to his despised opponent. However, she was being helpful at the moment, so he took a few deep breaths to calm himself as she flicked through the cards again. "Well, in that case, I think these other four might be better for you. Two of them have illustrations. Are the pictures very important to you?"

"I would very much like to see pictures of Godric Gryffindor," he replied neutrally.

Hermione was obviously thinking, for she said next, "Then we can get Scrivener's _The Life of Godric Gryffindor_ as well. It has coloured illuminations. Even if you can't read the runes, you can look through the pictures. If you need a translation, I can do that for you if the passage is not too long – for example the description of an illumination.

"This way, Mr Malfoy. I should tell you that these books are all part of the reference collection. You must read them in the library, they are not available for borrowing. There are carrels here where you can read undisturbed. You can make notes yourself, non-drip ink only please, or if you wish to have a copy of any passage, we sell Quickcopy Quills to do it for you. The books are all protected by wards that do not permit them to be taken out of the library.

"Here we are, you can use this carrel. Please wait here while I fetch your books."

Hermione walked into the stacks, and Lucius saw her disappear in a whirl as she flicked her wand, using a spell to guide her straight to the book on the first card. He sat on the chair by the reading desk, noting the pile of old parchment provided for making notes, and the quill with a pot of non-drip ink beside it. There was an oil lamp shining brightly onto the desk, and a bell-pull in the carrel for summoning assistance.

Lucius did not have long to wait before a large book bound in brown leather came towards him at a stately pace, and landed on the desk. This was swiftly followed by four more books, until he had a neat pile of them in front of him. Professor Granger reappeared, recasting the wards at the entrance to the stacks as she emerged.

"Will those books be sufficient for now, Mr Malfoy?" she asked him. "I suggest you look through them first. If you require other books when you have seen them, or you would like any other assistance, please ring the bell. Please leave the books in the carrel when you have finished"

Malfoy could not bring himself to thank her, so he acknowledged her with a nod of his head, and the words, "Miss Granger," uttered in a tone of dismissal. She raised an eyebrow slightly, and walked back to her desk in a dignified manner, not looking back at him.

Lucius began looking through the books. Grudgingly, he had to admit that Miss Granger seemed to have made a good selection. The ornate script coupled with the old fashioned English in three of the books was difficult to decipher, but he could read them with patience. The fourth book was much more modern, and he could skim through it easily. The fifth, _The Life of Godric Gryffindor_, was, as he had been told, written in ancient runes, but the Mudblood was right, it was full of hand-painted brightly coloured illuminations. Lucius flicked through it hopefully, searching for a picture of one particular item, or at the very least something that would show he was on the right track. He had to admit to himself that this was a very fine book indeed, beautifully preserved. Had he not been on the trail of particular piece of information, he would have enjoyed just browsing through it and admiring the work of the unknown artist. As he looked through, he began to doubt that he would find what he sought, for many of the illuminations were not in fact pictures to illustrate the text, but enlarged capital letters decorated with real and imaginary magical beasts; but there were a few real illustrations, and so he persisted.

After some more pages, his doubts took over. He marked his place in the ancient volume, and began to look through the newest book next, reasoning that as he could read this one most easily, he would either find what he wanted, or be able to discard it very quickly. Lucius wanted to know more about Godric Gryffindor's origins. He had never before thought much about the man, he had always concentrated on the pure blood background of Salazar Slytherin. He seemed to remember that Gryffindor came from the north of England, but was this true? This book was about the founding of Hogwarts, with a short life history of each of the founders. Lucius turned to the pages about Gryffindor's early life: yes, he was what would now be called a Yorkshireman, from the southern part of Northumbria that became the kingdom of Jorvik in the days of Viking rule. Gryffindor came from a market town in the West Riding. Lucius was pleased that his recollection had been correct. He read a little more, but decided that the rest of the information was superfluous to his needs. He then read a little about Salazar Slytherin, but soon realised that this book would not tell him anything about Slytherin's abilities as a Parselmouth, which today was the only information he needed about this founder. This book had no pictures, so he started on one of the older volumes with illustrations.

Lucius spent a long time scouring the library books for illustrations of Godric Gryffindor, but the authors seemed determined to thwart him, for there were pictures of many things, including all four Hogwarts founders in a variety of heroic poses, but none of these showed Gryffindor with the one thing Lucius sought. Finally he began again with the oldest book, but his diligence proved fruitless, and the only thing Lucius was able to determine from this antique volume was that he had interpreted his ancient runes correctly the previous day at home. He sat back in his chair and frowned, thinking. He had an idea, but it would mean asking the Granger female for help again. Well, he wanted the information, so he would use the tool to hand. He could go home and bully the house elves to relieve his feelings afterwards.

He approached the enquiry desk once more. Miss Granger looked surprised to see him, but asked him civilly enough if he had found what he was looking for. Lucius replied airily that he had found some useful information, but he had not found an illustration that suited his purpose. "Tell me," he said, "Are there any portraits of the founders here? Or are they all at Hogwarts?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure exactly what we have. I know there are portraits of all former Transpires students, but the university was founded 300 years after Hogwarts, so of course the founders did not study here. There is a gallery of portraits of important witches and wizards on the next floor here in the library. But because some of them were honoured by being placed there many years after their death, the portraits are sometimes a mere guess at what the person looked like, or poor copies of earlier portraits. Some of the older portraits are in sad need of restoration; but the occupants are very stubborn, and won't stay still long enough to be cleaned. Of course, hygiene wasn't as important in those days…" She seemed to realise she had been rambling somewhat, and suddenly stopped speaking. She began again with, "Would you like to see the gallery, Mr Malfoy?"

"Yes I would. What is the procedure?"

"You would need to be accompanied, because the gallery is part of the multidimensional library space. If you would like to go there now, I can arrange for a house elf to take you. The house elf will remain with you all the time you are in the gallery, and bring you back here afterwards."

Lucius managed to convey without speaking that this arrangement would be acceptable. Hermione picked up a speaking tube beside her desk, and said into it, "Please would one of you come to the library reference section enquiry desk. I have a visitor here who would like to be escorted to the portrait gallery." Lucius sneered at this. Of course, the Mudblood had no idea how to talk to house elves. All this "please" and "would you"! House elves responded best to orders, otherwise they started slacking. He wondered how long he would have to wait.

However, a house elf apparated almost immediately. He wore a cut down tablecloth neatly belted with a length of material matching the university's academic gowns. This was the standard garb for the Transpires house elves. He bowed awkwardly to Lucius, and said, "The visitor will please follow Livvy." He then walked rapidly towards a corner of the room where a staircase could be seen spiralling upwards. Lucius strode after him.

On the next floor, after climbing an almost vertical staircase, they came to an enormous gallery with portraits lining the walls, disappearing out of view in all directions. The occupants of some of the portraits looked at Lucius suspiciously. He turned to Livvy, trying to hide the fact that after the steep climb he was slightly out of breath. "I am looking for a portrait of Godric Gryffindor. Do you have such a thing?"

"Livvy only knows some of the pictures, Sir. But Livvy can ask Old Bursar. Old Bursar's portrait is along here."

Lucius decided to wait where he was. After a short while, the house elf came back to him and reported, "Old Bursar says there is one portrait of Mr Gryffindor. The visitor will please stand very close to Livvy." The elf then snapped his fingers, and the two of them disapparated, apparating again in front of a very large portrait with an ornate gilt frame. Livvy pointed at it. "Mr Godric Gryffindor," he said, and then stepped back to wait.

Lucius looked upwards at the portrait. He saw a man of about 30 years old, dressed in the garb of a nobleman of the 900s. He had red-gold hair and a beard, and the build of a warrior. He was wearing a sword belt, and Lucius recognised the ornate hilt of the sword: it was the same weapon that now hung on the wall of the Head Teacher's office at Hogwarts. Lucius examined the portrait, looking very hard at Gryffindor's neck to see whether he wore any ornamentation, but he could only see a large jewelled brooch pinning the founder's cloak in place. The man in the picture stared back at him levelly.

Lucius turned slightly to see how near the house elf was standing.

"Is it required that you remain within earshot?"

"No, Sir. Livvy must be able to see the visitor."

"Then move back until you cannot hear me, but can still see me. I wish to speak to Gryffindor." Livvy did as he was bid. Lucius then turned to the portrait, and said, "Godric Gryffindor, I wish to ask you a question."

The portrait spoke back to him in a deep voice, but Lucius was disconcerted when he realised he could not understand him: the man was speaking in Anglo-Saxon. He cursed himself for not having considered this possibility. However, it did mean that this portrait was similar enough to the real Godric Gryffindor for it to have acquired his characteristics. It was obvious that this painting had been done many years after Gryffindor's death, but even if it was not an accurate likeness so far as the man's appearance was concerned, the artist had been skilled enough to capture his essence.

Lucius thought a moment about what he really wanted to know. He glanced sideways at Livvy, to make sure where he stood. Then he slipped his hand into his pocket, out of the elf's line of sight, and drew out a bronze ornament, which he held out before him so that Gryffindor could see it clearly. "Do you recognise this?" he asked, and watched the founder's face carefully. He was rewarded by a widening of those watchful blue eyes, and an expression of surprise. Gryffindor spoke, and still Lucius could not understand the words, but their meaning was clear: he had recognised the object. "Is it yours?" asked Lucius, gesturing from the ornament to the portrait. Gryffindor's gesture in reply was unambiguous: he pointed from the object to himself. It was also obvious that he did not understand how it came to be in this stranger's possession. An expression of great frustration appeared on his face, for he could not speak to the visitor to ask him how he had come by it.

Lucius had his answer, and he smiled in satisfaction. He replaced Bryony's Thor's Hammer pendant in his pocket. It was as he had first thought when he had begun to decipher the runes inscribed as part of its ornamentation: this ancient pendant bearing a lion, the symbol of Gryffindor House, had once been Godric Gryffindor's amulet; for it was inscribed in Anglo-Saxon Futhorc runes with a word that he had painstakingly spelled out as "Grifindor".

* * *

Lucius apparated into Cho Chang's sitting room at Gildenford Hall; now that the couple were reconciled, he was permitted once more to enter her suite of rooms this way. Should he wish to visit any other part of the Hall, he was expected to ring the front door bell like any civilised caller. He stood awhile and listened, but as he had hoped, the rooms were quiet and he was alone. It was generally understood that Lucius was only to call when Cho was at home, and he was aware that this was the second time today that he was in effect a trespasser abusing the privilege he had been granted; for of course he knew that Cho would be working at this time of day.

To avoid stepping into the corridor, Lucius now apparated once more, this time into Bryony's bedroom. He made straight for the dressing table, which was covered in the kind of clutter beloved of young witches: miniature replicas of magical objects; cuddly toy dragons, cats and owls; witch and wizard dolls; polished samples of pretty crystals; a tortoiseshell-backed dressing table set of brushes, comb and hand mirror; and last but not least, a Chinese lacquer box inlaid with mother of pearl, that Bryony called her "treasure box".

Lucius opened the treasure box, and felt in his pocket for Gryffindor's amulet. The Thor's Hammer shape seemed to have twisted itself into the corners of the pocket, and Lucius firstly tried to free it manually. He was just considering using magic to solve the problem, when he heard feet running along the landing outside the room. The bedroom door suddenly burst open, and in ran Bryony. She stopped when she saw her father, and stared at him in disbelief. Lucius was taken aback by her unexpected appearance: he knew he had been caught plundering Bryony's treasure box, and he did not know what to say to his daughter. Even so, her reaction was one he could not have predicted.

Bryony's sweet face twisted into a snarl, and her eyes flashed: was that a hint of red in them, or a trick of the light? She sprang forward, and in a harsh voice, she spat at him. "Give me the pendant back this instant!" Lucius stared down at his child, transformed into some kind of demon, her hand stuck out imperiously, the other hand on her hip expectantly. It was as if she had been taken over by another being. When had she learned to say "this instant"? What had provoked her to speak to her father this way? He frowned.

How did she know what was in his pocket? For the Thor's Hammer was still caught up in the fabric, and Bryony was alternately glancing from the hand in his pocket to his face.

"Bryony, calm down," he began, gently enough, watching her face carefully; but she thrust out her hand even further. "Give it to me! How dare you take it without asking?" Silently, Lucius cast a spell to free the pendant from its entanglement, withdrew it from his pocket, and placed it on the small outstretched hand.

It was as if a cheering charm had been cast over Bryony. She smiled: at first it was a more like a smirk of triumph, but then her face relaxed, and she looked like her usual self. The reddish light was no longer in her eyes. In fact, she seemed slightly puzzled, and stared at the pendant in her hand as if wondering how it had got there. She looked up, and also seemed surprised to see Lucius. "Daddy!" she said, and beamed from ear to ear. She ran up to him, and hugged him around the waist, as high as she could reach.

Lucius crouched down and returned the hug, but although he was pleased to see that Bryony was herself again, he was genuinely concerned at what had just taken place: this had been no childish tantrum, she had been almost threatening. Lucius had enough experience of wilful children to recognise that something else entirely had just happened here.

As he helped Bryony to put the pendant back into her treasure box, he wondered if it was the artefact itself: did Godric Gryffindor's amulet possess some secret power? If so, perhaps it was worth even more money than Lucius had originally estimated.

Lucius wondered how he could discover more about the pendant. Bryony's chatter washed over him as he pondered.

* * *

_**Note: **The concept of a multidimensional library space was invented by Terry Pratchett for Ankh-Morpork's Unseen University on Discworld. I have shamelessly borrowed this idea, and also named my university in homage to Terry: Transpires is a combination of **transparent** (i.e. unseen) and **spires** from Oxford's "dreaming spires". _


	21. Chapter 21

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 21**

Hermione Granger stood in front of the portrait of Godric Gryffindor. She looked at him, and felt a little afraid. Here was a true warlock of the tenth century, tall and broad, with the fair colouring of a Norseman or Saxon, wearing the sword that she recognised from Hogwarts. She was unsure how to approach him: what was the correct etiquette in the 900s? Hermione decided that she must try something, so she performed a perfunctory curtsey, and then addressed him.

Instantly, he looked at her in amazement, and replied, "Good morning, Mistress. You speak my language! That is very rare indeed. We get few enough visitors here in the gallery, and those who come are generally completely unintelligible." He made her a stiff bow.

Hermione blushed with pleasure at the compliment. "Thank you, Sir. I have been studying Anglo-Saxon for some time now. I can read old manuscripts well enough, but I was unsure of my pronunciation for the spoken version."

"Your vowels are a little odd, to be sure, but I can understand you," replied Gryffindor airily. He looked at her searchingly. "You are the second visitor in as many days. The other fellow was indecipherable. I expect you want something from me? Nobody ever calls on us merely to pass the time of day. Why are you here?"

Hermione looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, you are right. I wanted to ask you something. I would not bother you, but I believe it's very important. It concerns your other visitor, the tall man with long silver hair who came yesterday."

Gryffindor's shaggy golden eyebrows were raised in query. "Ask, Mistress," he said. Hermione thought he sounded weary; but then his expression changed to one of interest. "Firstly, tell me your name," he said.

"Hermione Granger," she replied.

"Hermione? Unusual. Or is it more common nowadays?"

"No, it's still unusual."

"A very old name, of Greek origin. It is good when modern wizards respect the past. However, this is not relevant to your query. Ask."

"The wizard who came to see you yesterday – his name is Lucius Malfoy. What did he want with you?"

"He seemed a most arrogant and disagreeable fellow," remarked Gryffindor. "He was full of his own importance, and very annoyed that I could not understand him, even when he tried speaking to me very slowly, as if I were a babe in arms or an imbecile. However, it was clear enough what he wished to know from me: he has something of mine. He merely wished me to confirm that it had indeed once been the property of Godric Gryffindor."

"And will you tell me what it is?"

"It is an amulet, in the shape of Thor's Hammer."

"And – forgive my impertinence - it was definitely yours, not merely a similar amulet?"

"It was mine. The hammer is held by a lion's head, and is also marked with my name in Futhorc. I would like very much to know how it came into his possession. I should not have been surprised had it been in the possession of a descendant; but I do not believe this Malfoy is a relative of mine. What think you, Mistress Granger?"

"No, I do not think he is either. He and his family have always been in Slytherin House, and they share that founder's prejudice against those who are not born with pure wizard blood."

"And you Mistress Granger? In which house were you?"

"Gryffindor, Sir," replied Hermione proudly.

* * *

Later, back in her small university flat, Hermione drank a refreshing cup of mint tisane, and thought over the matter of the amulet. Lucius Malfoy now had something precious that had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. She cast her mind back to the time when they had all been seeking just such an artefact. Horace Slughorn had confessed to Harry that he had revealed to Tom Riddle the dark magic needed to create a horcrux: but Lord Voldemort had not been content with only one horcrux. Dumbledore had believed that the Dark Lord had split his soul many times, and in order to destroy Voldemort, it would be necessary to destroy all his horcruxes.

There had been four missing items, one belonging to each of the four Hogwarts founders: Salazar Slytherin's locket, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, something belonging to Godric Gryffindor and something belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw. These items were believed to be four of the six horcruxes created by Lord Voldemort to hold the parts of his severed soul.

Dumbledore himself had removed the power from one of the other two horcruxes, a ring belonging to Marvolo Gaunt, but he had rendered one of his hands useless in the process, showing that horcruxes could not be damaged easily even by the most powerful wizard. Then shortly afterwards Dumbledore had been killed, leaving Harry with the task of finding and destroying all the remaining horcruxes. Hermione's blood ran cold as she once more relived her old Headmaster's cruel death, and her eyes misted over with unshed tears.

But the possible horcrux belonging to Godric Gryffindor had never been found, in spite of Harry, Ron and Hermione searching high and low for such an item. It had worried Hermione for many months that this one remaining horcrux remained hidden following the announcement of Voldemort's death at the hands of an auror. She had talked it over with Harry and Ron, but they had not shared her concern: Ron told her not to fuss over details, Voldemort was dead and that was all that mattered. The horcrux must have been destroyed some other way. Anyway, Dumbledore had probably only guessed the number of horcruxes as six: perhaps it had never existed.

Harry had been in very strange mood for a long time following Voldemort's demise. He had believed that it was his destiny to destroy Voldemort, and when He Who Must Not Be Named had instead died by the hand of another, Harry had become sullen and resentful, and it had been impossible to get a civil word out of him. For all his constant claims that he hated to be the centre of everyone's attention, when the spotlight fell away from Harry, he had found it impossible to accept that his final goal had in the end been snatched from his grasp.

Hermione had remained alert for any sign that Voldemort was not dead, but eventually had decided that the others must be right, and he really was no more. The wizarding world had celebrated, and a great shadow was lifted from all their lives.

Now she wondered, could she have been right all along? Was Voldemort still hiding out in the world somewhere, regaining his lost strength and planning his return as he had done before? She shivered at the thought, and later when she went to bed, she found it impossible to sleep, the thoughts churning over in her mind. Did Lucius Malfoy know what he had in his possession, or was he merely a pawn in Voldemort's plans? For if he were fully informed, he would surely not have found it necessary to ask Gryffindor if the amulet were his. Also, that must mean that he had only recently acquired the amulet – and where did he get it?

Hermione was unsure of Lucius' loyalties nowadays. She tried not to allow her personal dislike of the man to cloud her judgement of him. He was older now than when he had been a close follower of Voldemort; she knew he loved his daughter, and Gabrielle had spoken of a reconciliation with Cho. Perhaps he now wished for a life of quiet obscurity with his family rather than his previous notoriety. Perhaps the return of Voldemort after all this time would not be greeted with any great enthusiasm by the Dark Lord's former chief Death Eater?

Hermione then suddenly realised what she should do next, and eventually fell asleep as the clock on the university tower struck two o'clock, her mind a little more settled now that she had made this one simple decision.

* * *

The following day, Hermione stood in the portrait gallery of Transpires University library, in front of a painting of Albus Dumbledore. After ascertaining from Livvy how he had found his way to Godric Gryffindor, Hermione too had asked for guidance from the portrait of the Old Bursar, who had been responsible for purchasing or commissioning many of the artworks. She wished it had occurred to her before that there might be a portrait of her old Headmaster at her place of work: she would have been to see him before, not waited until she needed his advice. She coughed slightly.

Dumbledore opened his eyes and blinked. "Ah, it's daytime," he muttered to himself. He seemed about to go back to sleep, when he noticed the figure standing there.

"Miss Granger, I do believe!" he said, "Well, well, and all grown up too. It is so easy to lose track of time in here, where one day is like another, and we seldom get any visitors. Indulge me, and tell me how old you are, and what you are doing nowadays?"

"I'm 28 now, Professor," replied Hermione, "And I work here in the university. I'm doing research into the Dark Arts, and I lecture part-time on the same subject. I like the work, but it doesn't pay very well, so I work in the library too for extra money."

"You look very well indeed, Miss Granger. I do like your curls, if an old man is allowed to notice such things. Now, why are you here? I strongly suspect that this is more than a social visit."

Hermione blushed, both at the compliment and at the shrewd observation that she was here with a mission. "I only recently realised there was a portrait of you here," she said. "I mean, if I had thought about it, I would have guessed there was, but I never came into the gallery till yesterday. Professor, I spoke to Godric Gryffindor."

"Ah, yes, a very interesting fellow," nodded Dumbledore. "Of course, you can speak Anglo-Saxon? Yes, I thought so. And I presume you had a special reason for seeing him too?"

"Yes, Sir. Lucius Malfoy came to see him two days ago, and I was curious to know what he wanted."

"Did he indeed? Enlighten me, what is Mr Malfoy up to these days? Now that the Death Eaters are no more, how does he pass his time?"

"He lives quietly for the most part," replied Hermione, who had no wish to discuss Lucius' private life any more than absolutely necessary. "Professor, he came to see Godric Gryffindor because he has a pendant in his possession he believes once belonged to him. He showed it to Gryffindor's portrait, and asked him if it was his. Of course he couldn't speak Anglo-Saxon, but with sign language the question was clear, and so was the answer. The pendant is in the shape of a Thor's Hammer held by a lion's head, and is engraved with Gryffindor's name in ancient runes. The portrait told me that he had recognised it, and it was definitely his amulet.

"Professor, I came to see you because I believe the amulet is the last horcrux that was never found, and I don't know what to do about it. The whole wizarding world believes that Voldemort is dead, but I have always had a lingering suspicion that he was not because of the missing horcrux. Could I be right?"

Hermione waited, patiently at first, as Dumbledore seemed to sink into a reverie. Of course he needed to think, but she began to suspect he had fallen asleep again. She was wondering whether to wake him when he finally spoke: "Firstly, Miss Granger, I have tried very hard to remember any occasion on which I was told that one horcrux might still remain in existence. My portrait at Hogwarts keeps me informed of any news he learns, as naturally he sees many people every day. But I do not recall Harry or yourself ever telling him this. In fact, Harry has not spoken to me since well before Voldemort's death. I was more than a little surprised at first, I expected him to wish to discuss that event with me. In fact, I may go so far as to say I was a little hurt by his continued absence…"

"And my absence too!" said Hermione guiltily, hearing the reproach in Dumbledore's voice. "I'm so sorry, Sir, I should have told you everything. I should have guessed that Harry stayed away from you just like he avoided me and Ron…"

"He avoided you too?" interrupted the old Headmaster. "Ah, yes, it is all much clearer now. He had become used to saving people. He did not know what to do with himself when his role was usurped. And you did not come either because his reaction embarrassed you – you did not want to be forced into making apologies for him. Yes, I see it now.

"So, to deal with the problem in hand. Miss Granger, I fear you may be right. Voldemort must be very weak indeed if he has been away for so long, and one horcrux gives him much less strength than six; but he will return. The finding of this last horcrux - and I agree the amulet perfectly fits the profile of a horcrux – may not be a coincidence. Perhaps he is ready to appear once more. We must be very alert for any sign, for any unusual occurrence. Tell me, have you observed anything unusual lately that could be linked in some way to the return of Voldemort?"

Hermione was about to say no, when she remembered what she had been reading when Lucius Malfoy called at the university. Surely Bryony's ability could not be related to Voldemort? But she could ask what Dumbledore knew about Parselmouths.

"There is another thing I would like to ask you about," she began, realising that she would after all need to discuss Lucius Malfoy. "Firstly, I need to tell you that Cho Chang and Lucius Malfoy have a daughter…"

"This I do know," replied Dumbledore. "My Hogwarts self is well informed about births, marriages and deaths in the wizarding world, especially births. You see, much of this information has a bearing on who will attend Hogwarts in the future, and allows the Head Teacher to make plans based on projected numbers of pupils. So I am aware that Narcissa Malfoy died some years ago, and that Cho Chang has a daughter of six years old called Bryony whose father is Lucius Malfoy."

Hermione nodded, for this all made perfect sense to her: Hogwarts kept track of all young wizards and witches so that the school could write to those who reached the age of eleven. "I taught Bryony Chang for a while," she continued, "So I know her quite well. She's a nice girl, well brought up, and very intelligent. I don't teach her now, so I haven't seen her recently. But a few days ago, I saw Gabrielle Delacour – you know who I mean, Sir?"

Dumbledore thought for a while. "She is the sister of Fleur Delacour, who took part in the Triwizard Tournament as the Beauxbatons champion."

"Yes, that's right, she was placed in the lake for Fleur to rescue along with myself, Ron and Cho. Well, Gabrielle is now engaged to Draco Malfoy."

"That I did not know. I take it that my Hogwarts portrait does not know either. For once, I shall be able to tell him something! So, Draco Malfoy is to be married, is he? It is a far better ending for him than to be my murderer while still in his teens, as Voldemort wanted. So, you have seen the younger Miss Delacour recently?"

"Yes, and she told me something interesting about Bryony. She is a Parselmouth. Both Gabrielle and Bryony's governess heard her talking to a snake. Professor, I've been reading about Parselmouths. Are we right to be concerned about them just because Voldemort was a Parselmouth, and most known Parselmouths are connected to him in some way? Isn't it possible that someone could develop the ability and not be evil, just like Harry?"

Dumbledore regarded Hermione steadily over the top of his half-moon glasses. She felt he was trying to read her mind. She blushed, fearful of what he might find there.

"Miss Granger, do not worry that I shall attempt to read your thoughts without permission. Civilised wizards do not enter another's mind uninvited. I am merely wondering at your question. I think there is something else you have not told me that causes you to worry about the child Bryony Chang. Do you feel any evil from her?"

"No, of course not. She's only six!"

"And is your remarkably perceptive cat still with us? He was, I believe, unerringly accurate at distinguishing good from evil. If he still lives, what does he think of her?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she stared at Dumbledore. She replayed the scene in her mind: Crookshanks' immediate violent reaction when he saw Bryony, followed swiftly by the killing curse from her furious father. She had not until this moment put the two facts together: Crookshanks' behaviour and Bryony's ability to speak Parseltongue. What did it mean? With tears filling her eyes so that she could not see Dumbledore's kindly face, she recounted the events of that dreadful day. Of course, she did not include the details of how Lucius had chosen to punish her; such a revelation would be far too humiliating.

When she was able to focus once more, Hermione saw that Dumbledore was thinking. She did not interrupt, but waited for him to speak. Eventually he said, "There are too many coincidences here. Crookshanks' reaction to Bryony was the same as his reaction to Peter Pettigrew in his rat animagus form, you say. You had no doubt at all that Crookshanks was right then. Why would he be wrong now? Bryony can speak Parseltongue. She is six years old, yet this has only just been noticed. It is possible that she has just recently acquired this ability. I do not believe that any child, even the daughter of Lucius Malfoy, is inherently evil. Even Tom Riddle himself had a reason for becoming what he was; he was not inherently evil either, it was the path he chose. But this child is far too young to have made any kind of choice at all.

"Now Lucius Malfoy possesses the final missing horcrux. It is clear that he does not know what it is, or he would not have needed to ask Gryffindor. Voldemort did not trust Lucius enough in the past to tell him that his old diary was a horcrux; indeed I do not believe he ever told any of his followers how he had split his soul. But this last horcrux was never found, and now it has reappeared. I do not believe this is chance: I believe that the child Bryony may be possessed in some way by Voldemort. Perhaps we never found this horcrux because Voldemort had hidden it very well, and now that he is back, he has used Lucius to recover it from its hiding place. No doubt Lucius sees it only as a very rare and valuable item, and worth even more because it once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. I suspect that he was merely confirming its value when he asked the portrait about it."

"But what can we do?" asked Hermione in despair. "Even if it's possible to destroy the horcrux, would it kill Bryony as well as Voldemort if we did?"

"Think, Miss Granger, think. Destroying the horcrux would not entirely destroy Voldemort, for he would still have the very last part of his soul that remains in whatever is left of him in this world. That is the thing that inhabits Bryony Chang. But if we wish to destroy this very last vestige of Voldemort, we will indeed firstly have to separate him from the child, for we cannot in all conscience destroy her too.

"But our first task is to find a way to destroy the horcrux, or at the very least, to deprive it of its powers. That will not be easy."

"Professor," Hermione said slowly, "May I discuss this matter with Gabrielle Delacour? She is part Veela and has some Veela powers, and also she seems to be very close to Bryony even though she has only recently met her. She also gets on well with Lucius Malfoy, which may be useful if we need to ensure he is not around when we obtain the amulet."

"Miss Granger, I am no longer your Headmaster, I am dead. You must make your own decisions. But if you wish for an opinion, I think you have made a wise choice for your future confidant, if that young woman is anything like as shrewd as her sister."


	22. Chapter 22

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 22**

Jane Currer took a deep breath and entered Lucius Malfoy's study. He was seated in his accustomed place by the fire, lit against the evening chill now the nights were drawing in. A bottle and a glass of Glen Foy single malt were on a small table within easy reach. As he saw Jane come in, Lucius stood, initially the reflex action of a gentleman accustomed to rising when a lady enters the room, but then he remained standing, looking at her; she blushed.

"Come in, Jane, sit down," he gestured to the seat opposite him. Not knowing what else to do, she obeyed. She looked into the fire, she looked at the floor: she could not meet those searching grey eyes, or bear to look at that well loved imperfect face.

"Would you like a drink? I have whisky here, but if you prefer something else, I will ring for a house elf. A glass of wine? Tea? Coffee? Or perhaps a hot toddy?"

"Er – a hot toddy would be very welcome, thank you." Jane's nervousness was making her feel cold, she thought the combination of a hot drink and alcohol would warm her and perhaps steady her nerves.

Lucius did not ring for a house elf: he had the honey, cinnamon and cloves ready to hand in a wall cupboard, and a jug of Malfoy spring water on the table beside the whisky bottle. He measured out the ingredients with practised ease, and used his wand to heat the mixture in a silver jug. He added the whisky, applied his wand once more, and tasted a spoonful of the toddy himself to check the flavour and temperature. Then he poured the result through a strainer into a goblet, which he handed to Jane with a smile and a flourish. Jane had almost forgotten to be nervous as she watched Lucius preparing her drink, and she smiled back at him instinctively. She took a sip, inhaling the aromatic fumes, and felt the alcohol burn her throat as she swallowed. A warm feeling spread through her, and she nodded her appreciation. "It's very good," she said, "Just right for an autumn evening." She set the goblet down on the table beside her chair, for the drink was still too hot to cradle in her hands, and immediately began to feel nervous again.

"Jane, why are you afraid of me tonight?" asked Lucius quietly, retaking his seat, "We know each other well enough by now. Have I ever done anything to make you frightened?" He waited patiently, but clearly he expected an answer.

"I am not really afraid of you, Sir," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I think I'm afraid of my own reaction when I'm with you. You see, I know I have lost you and that I should forget what happened between us, but I can't. I know it's wrong of me, but I wanted it to happen again." Jane looked up at Lucius through her lashes, fearful of his reaction. Would he laugh at her; he the Man of the World, she the governess with no experience of men? But no, he looked back at her seriously, a slight frown between his eyes.

"Jane," he said. "I have always tried to be truthful with you. Believe me when I say, if you want it to happen again, it can. This very night, should you wish it."

Jane looked at Lucius in astonishment. "But what about Miss Chang?" she cried incredulously, "You told me you had promised her you would try to be faithful to her. Is this what your word means?"

Lucius replied smoothly, "That was before we split up. We are not yet fully reconciled, and I have made her no such promise since our parting. Cho and I are not married, nor do we live in the same house. At present, I am free to entertain any female I choose, although circumstances dictate that there are no others. You are lodging here at the Manor, and Cho even knows you are here. You may sleep alone, or you may share my bed. I know which I would like, and you have just confessed that you would like the same."

During this speech, Lucius had stood and come over to Jane, kneeling at her feet. He placed the hot toddy back in her hands: "Drink, before it goes cold," he urged, sitting back on his heels. She did as she was bid, playing for time. She felt the unaccustomed alcohol rush to her head, and wondered idly how much whisky Lucius had put in it. When she placed the empty goblet back on the table, she suddenly found Lucius' lips on hers, and his arms around her. Her head in a whirl, she abandoned herself to the pleasure of his touch, and responded willingly when his tongue touched hers. A small voice in the back of her mind told her that she should stop, but her body told her she did not want to.

Jane had not been alone with Lucius since the last night she had come to him. After she had heard Lucius and Cho together on that fateful night following Bryony's recovery, she had tried to ensure that she did not meet him unless absolutely necessary. This had not been difficult to achieve, for she had been sure to leave Lucius and Bryony alone together when he came to Gildenford Hall in the daytime to visit his daughter; and she did not encounter him at all when he spent the nights there in Cho's bed. But now Cho had paid an unexpected visit to Tokyo to see her Japanese friend Mariko, who had worked for Cho's Chic for a while some years ago. Mariko had been injured in a magical accident, and Cho had gone to her, combining the trip with a visit to a manufacturer of exclusive embroidered kimonos; for she now had a wealthy customer who wished to stun her acquaintances at the Yuletide celebrations.

As before, Bryony was sent to stay with her father, and Jane had been asked to accompany her so that the child could continue her lessons. This evening, Jane had lingered over tucking an exhausted Bryony into bed, even though Nanny had insisted that it was her job, and Miss Jane should leave it to her and relax. But Jane had been avoiding the moment when she would finally be alone with Lucius, without the presence of Bryony to deflect her father's attention away from her governess.

When Lucius finally drew away from Jane, she felt unable to move away or protest. Her head was swimming, both from the whisky and the embrace. Lucius was very close, looking slightly fuzzy, as her eyes would not focus properly. He was still holding her, and she felt warm and safe here in his arms.

"Oh, Jane, I think you are a little drunk my dear," said Lucius. "Well, maybe that is no bad thing, you seem much more relaxed now. But I know that generally you drink only in moderation, and perhaps I overdid the whisky a little. But never let it be said that I took advantage of a female while she was under the influence. I think you will need help getting up the stairs, but you shall choose which room I take you to - or indeed, it has occurred to me that there is a third choice. So what will you: your celibate governess's bed, my spacious, warm and very welcoming bed; or shall we stay here and make love on the hearth rug before the fire?"

Jane's eyes flashed open at this last question. Lucius raised a quizzical eyebrow in response. "Ah, you like that suggestion? Or at any rate it interests you? I have a rug stored in here that is perfect for making love. It is the softest fur, and feels wonderful against your naked skin. You would be caressed both from above and below. You are worried about intruders? The house elves know better than to disturb me if I have female company. It may have been a long time since they needed to remember that, but they were well trained over many years."

"But – your son? And Mademoiselle Delacour?" Jane managed to say; for the thought of Lucius making love to her here and now had made her feel very flustered indeed, as desire fought with that niggling little voice. Then she had remembered that Lucius was not alone at Malfoy Manor anymore. Might not Draco wish to speak to his father, and so disturb them if they remained here? She had no wish to relive the look Lucius' son had given her that night outside the bathroom door.

Lucius pulled a rueful face. "You are quite right, Jane. They are out together visiting friends at the moment, it is entirely possible we may be interrupted when they return. In that case, we shall take the rug upstairs with us. Draco is not permitted to disturb me in my bedroom unless there is a dire emergency. Come, my dear, stand up." So saying, Lucius stood himself, and helped Jane to her feet. "Wait there a moment."

Lucius crossed over to a large chest against the wall, opened it, took out what Jane assumed must be a rolled rug, and tucked it under his arm; then he returned to her, picking up his cane on the way, and put his free arm about her. Before she was aware of what was happening, she found Lucius had apparated them both into his bedroom. Jane suddenly began to feel a slight sense of panic: things were happening much too fast.

But her companion seemed to sense her fear. Once he had set down the rug and his cane, he ignored them both and turned to her. "Remember, Jane, I said we would only do this if it is what you want. Say the word if you want me to take you to your own room. Now, sit down on the sofa and think it over. I will not touch you again until you tell me what you want to do."

As good as his word, Lucius left Jane alone on the sofa before the cheerful fire, lit earlier by a house elf, and he began to turn up slightly each of the lamps that had been glowing faintly when they arrived. The room became bathed in a golden glow, and Lucius' hair shone brightly as he moved about the room. He turned back the covers on his bed, inserting a warming pan that he heated with a flick of his wand, and then he shook out the rug. It was fashioned from silver-grey pelts that gleamed in the light. Lucius laid the rug in front of the hearth, smoothing it out caressingly with his hands. Jane watched him, imagining those long fingers stroking her in the same way, and she felt an answering twinge in her groin, and a dampness between her legs.

Lucius then removed the long, stylish coat he was wearing, and came to stand between Jane and the fire. With the light behind him, his hair shone like a halo around his head. Jane could not see his expression properly in the semi-darkness, and she was also distracted by the fact that Lucius was standing and she was sitting, so that her eyes were drawn instead to the very obvious bulge in his breeches. Lucius began very slowly to unbutton his shirt, and the hairs on his chest caught the lamplight as he did so. He captivated her, she could not look away. As more of his torso became visible, he gradually moved closer towards her. Part of her brain told her to leave, for Lucius knew exactly the effect he was having on her: he was determined to have her as he had had so many others; the other part of her was mesmerised by his performance, and desperately wanted him to make love to her, and damn the consequences. Her vulva ached for him, and she longed for him to suckle her nipples.

This Lucius was completely different from either previous occasion: this man was blatantly seducing her, and challenging her to refuse him. He pulled his open shirt out of his breeches, and stood with his hands on his hips before her, with his groin mere inches from her face. He shook his hair like a lion, and posed for her, a magnificent male specimen, all his confidence returned, his scars no longer important, an air of danger about him. He spoke:

"Jane, you have had time to think, and now you must decide. Stay or go? If you need assistance, I will escort you to the guest room, and I shall not attempt to remain there with you.

"But this time, Jane, if you stay, I shall not allow you to change your mind later. If you stay, we make love; and if you protest, I shall ignore you and have you anyway. You are no trembling virgin now, and I shall treat you as I would any other woman."

Jane looked up at Lucius, and knew that she did not have the willpower to refuse him, especially as this might be one of her last chances to be so close to him. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was so dry the words would not come out. It was in a hoarse whisper that she said, "I want to stay, please." In response, she received a triumphant smirk that softened the grey eyes that had been almost cruel as he had issued her the ultimatum. He stepped even closer, and taking her small hands in his larger ones, he placed her right hand on his chest. Those eyes urged her to react, and she stroked him, enjoying the almost furry feeling of the hairs under her fingers as she traced his muscles. Her fingertips caught his nipple, and as she saw him react, it occurred to her that he too might enjoy what she had found pleasurable. She circled the nipple with her finger, and saw it contract in response. Watching Lucius' eyes, she played gently with it, then pulled him towards her and kissed it just as he had kissed hers. He pulled her head towards him with both hands as she licked the small erect nipple with her tongue.

So close to Lucius, Jane was profoundly aware of his bulging groin pressing against her. Tentatively, she laid a hand on it, feeling his warmth through the cloth. Immediately, Lucius enclosed her hand in his, and moved it up and down over his imprisoned manhood. He removed his hand, and Jane realised that he was unbuttoning his breeches. As Lucius opened the front of his trousers, freeing his erection from the confines of his clothing, he closed Jane's hand on his swollen shaft, and sighed with bliss as she massaged him with cool fingers.

Jane was not sure what was required of her, but was taken aback at what happened next. Suddenly Lucius moved, and she found herself with one of his hands holding her head firmly, and with his manhood in front of her face. "Open wide, Jane," murmured Lucius, and he thrust his penis into her mouth. "A little wider, my dear, please! No biting!" he chided her, as he pushed himself in so far that she felt she would choke, and began to move himself backwards and forwards. Jane was shocked, and her eyes filled with tears. This was not what she had expected at all. This Lucius was completely different from the man who had taken her virginity on that wonderful night, and then made love to her again on her subsequent visit. On those two occasions, he had been gentle and considerate. Now he was treating her like a whore.

Or was he? On that second occasion, she remembered Lucius kissing her body: he had worked his way down slowly after spending a long time on her breasts, first kissing her belly, then the mound of her pubic hair, followed by her inner thighs, and finally he had reached the area between her legs: he had licked her labia, thrust his tongue into her vagina, and lastly licked her clitoris, tonguing her to a frenzied climax. When he had first placed his mouth on her most intimate parts she had been so shocked she had been speechless: she had never imagined that a man would ever do such a thing. But the resulting orgasm had been wonderful, and she wished she had had the courage to ask Lucius to do it again.

Now she told herself, if she had enjoyed that way of making love, then it was obvious that Lucius was enjoying the same thing. It was only fair that she should return him the favour. He had said that he was going to treat her like any other woman. No doubt many other women had gladly done this for him. With her mouth full, she could not of course speak, but she thought she could now pluck up the courage afterwards to ask Lucius to lick her to a climax once more. Jane again became aware of the demanding ache in her groin, and began to apply herself diligently to the current task. She slid Lucius' breeches down further, and clutched his buttocks tightly in her hands. She matched her strokes to his as Lucius thrust himself in and out of her mouth, using her tongue to tease his sensitive glans. What had at first seemed like something merely to be endured began to be more enjoyable: she loved being able to squeeze Lucius' beautiful behind, and she began to like his warm, firm shaft in her mouth, the smell of him up so close, and the feeling of power it gave her to have her lover in what was in fact a very vulnerable position. She discovered that to give pleasure to a loved one was in itself pleasurable. She became aware of Lucius' movements becoming more urgent, and his breathing becoming ragged. He suddenly stopped moving for an instant, followed by a strangled cry, and his groin thrusts became entirely involuntary as Jane felt him empty his salty seed into her mouth. She forced herself not to pull a face as she swallowed, hugging Lucius to her. She felt slightly pleased with herself at having done for him what he had once done for her. As his erection softened, she removed him from her mouth and smiled up at him. Lucius' eyes were closed, but now they opened and he smiled back as smugly as the cat who stole the cream.

"Lucius," began Jane tentatively, "Er – Lucius, please would you now do the same for me?" Her face was now scarlet. He stroked her hair, and caressed the side of her head around her ear. "Of course, sweet Jane," he replied, "Especially as the main method of satisfying you is now temporarily out of action!" Lucius deftly removed his boots and breeches, and sat beside Jane.

"So," he said, "Now it is my turn to pleasure you. Sit forward, my dear, so I can reach the fastenings of those exceedingly unflattering robes you insist on wearing."

Jane obeyed, trembling slightly. Lucius kissed the nape of her neck, and she moved her head to allow him to reach the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulder. He nuzzled her earlobe, and tendrils of pleasure seemed to shoot towards her vagina. Meanwhile, Lucius unfastened the back of Jane's severe blue robes. She felt a moment's regret that she had not dared to anticipate this event, and so was wearing her everyday practical underwear. However, Lucius had no sooner undone Jane's dress than he also slipped open the hooks of her bra. He made no comment, but contrived to slip both robes and bra off Jane's shoulders, setting the bra aside, so that she now sat naked to the waist. His hands slid around her to cup her breasts from behind, and he kissed her neck and shoulders once more. He pinched her nipples between finger and thumb almost cruelly, so that she could not decide whether this was pleasure or pain. He nibbled her ear, and nipped her shoulder, again on the borderline between hurting and caressing her.

Keeping one hand on her breast, and still intermittently pinching her now fully erect nipple, with his other hand Lucius took down her hair, meticulously searching for every last hairpin that had imprisoned her long mane in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Lastly he freed her hair from its securing band, and spread her soft brown tresses over her shoulders, stroking it as he did so. In her current state of heightened awareness, Jane's own hair against her skin felt very sensuous, especially when she realised that some of the hair was Lucius' as he whispered in her ear, "You do have pretty hair, Jane. I like to unwrap you from your governess uniform, and see the real you inside: your body revealed just for me to admire and pleasure. Although it would be nice to see you present yourself daily in a more flattering way. I believe I asked you this before, but Jane is such a stubborn little witch, she will do as she chooses, and not as Lucius requests." As he said this he squeezed both nipples very hard and nipped her ear. Jane gave a small cry of pain, but he ignored her. She guessed this was Lucius punishing her for disobeying him.

Lucius then told Jane to stand up, and swiftly he removed her robes. He unrolled her stockings, stroking her legs lingeringly with his long fingers, deliberately touching her inner thighs, and finally he slid down her unglamorous briefs, so that when she stepped out of them, she stood completely naked before him. He cupped her buttocks, and nipped her nipples with his teeth, forcing her to gasp out loud. Lucius then stood, his hands still supporting her buttocks, so that he lifted her up, for she was so much shorter than him. Instinctively, Jane wrapped her legs around Lucius as he carried her to the fur rug. He laid her upon it, and it was as he had said: the feel of the soft furs against her naked back and legs was so sensuous. Lucius knelt beside her. He kissed, nipped and pinched her with his mouth and hands, followed by gentle stroking, and then almost brutal kisses where her mouth felt bruised and his busy tongue was everywhere in her mouth, until Jane was desperate for him. She finally moaned, "Please, Lucius, don't make me wait any longer."

She did not expect his response: he roughly thrust two fingers deep inside her without warning. Once more, there was the pleasure/pain dichotomy, where she felt he had hurt her but she did not want him to stop. He looked into her startled eyes, and she almost felt afraid at what she saw, for his grey orbs were hard and his lips were curled in a snarl. Then he dipped his head between her legs and his mouth closed on her. His fingers still inside her, he ran his teeth over her swollen clitoris. This was such a shock that she cried out. Lucius raised his head, and looked at her, his expression still almost evil.

"You see, my dear, nothing is simple. What hurts may also give more pleasure. I can see, you can't decide if you like that or not, can you? Well tonight you have learned a new lesson: Lucius Malfoy likes to explore the boundaries between pain and pleasure; to see how far each woman will allow him to go before refusing him; to find her personal balance between hurt and ecstasy. Let me guess: your first reaction was pain, but there was also something else that makes you curious. You want more: I am right am I not?"

Lucius then explored her intimate parts thoroughly with his lips and tongue, occasionally running his teeth or fingernail over her so that she whimpered; but he ignored her and continued this wonderful, agonising attention to her sexual parts. He waited until she was almost mad with longing, then concentrated himself at precisely the right spot, so that she came at last, finding his touch almost unbearable, for she was so sensitive; but unable to stop herself from pushing her clitoris into his mouth for more. She realised she had screamed loudly at the moment of orgasm, and she continued to moan softly as the waves of ecstasy washed over her. Jane began to feel she could not stand Lucius touching her anymore, and tried to draw away, but he would not release her, and continued to flick his tongue over the tip of her clitoris. She felt the pressure building up in her once more, and abandoned herself to him: he knew what her body wanted better than she did, and she tensed her muscles against that busy tongue, and cried out as she climaxed once again.

Lucius lifted his head and looked at her. She saw him through half-closed lashes soaked with sweat and tears. "Again?" he asked, leering, and putting out his tongue at her in a very suggestive manner, "Or has Miss Currer had quite enough multiple orgasms for today?" She drew in her breath to reply, but he did not wait for an answer, and began to lick her again. This time, the pain was more, and she cried out with it, but he ignored her and she realised he was right, for she could feel yet another climax building. If she made herself think of the pleasure, the pain became bearable. As she peaked, and shook for a third time, she began to feel a little afraid, for she was sure that she could not stand any more, yet Lucius seemed to be in no mood to be dissuaded.

"Please Lucius, no more," she cried desperately, while she still shuddered intermittently from her last orgasm.

"As the lady commands," he replied smoothly, and lay on his side beside her on the fur rug, cupping one of her breasts in his hand. He pinched her nipple again, and she flinched. "Please, Lucius, stop now," she pleaded.

Lucius propped himself up on one arm, and looked down at Jane. "I think you will sleep well tonight, Jane," he observed. "Come, let me put you to bed before you fall asleep here." He knelt, lifted her up and carried her to the bed, where he moved the warming pan aside with a brief spell as he laid Jane down, and pulled the covers up over her. Jane indeed felt waves of sleep washing over her, but before she abandoned herself to the arms of Morpheus, she had to ask Lucius something:

"Lucius, would you have stopped before you did, if I had insisted?"

"But you did not insist, did you? You did not ask me to stop at all, so I did not. I could tell you wanted me to carry on, so I did. You enjoyed it didn't you?"

"But you hurt me."

"No, I did not really hurt you. Listen to your body. It knew what it wanted."

"But before, you said I could tell you to stop at anytime."

"This time I told you in advance I would not stop, so if you did not trust me, you should have left then. Jane, let us be clear. Tonight I showed you a little of the interaction between pleasure and pain. It made you afraid, both of me and of your own reaction. But there was nothing to fear. If I had really hurt you, I would have known it. When I finally stopped, it was because I knew you were right, that to continue would be too much for you. You dared to trust me. Did I betray your trust? Here you lie, completely sexually satiated, your groin throbbing still from the memory. Go to sleep. You can always trust me."

Knowing that what he had said was true, that so far Lucius had never lied to her, Jane finally allowed herself to fall asleep with that well loved face smiling at her in the golden lamplight, her body tingling from his magical touch.

Lucius watched her awhile, then he walked around the room turning out the lamps, and banked the fire with a flick of his wand. He slipped off his shirt, removed the cooling warming pan, and slid into bed beside Jane. He lay in the firelight staring at the ceiling, wondering slightly at what he had just done. He had not intended to expose any of his darker side to Jane so soon, for here was a young woman with no sexual experience save what he had himself given her; but he had felt possessed, as if a demon in his ear were encouraging him to do his worst. In the end, the experiment had been successful, but Lucius still felt it had been a great risk: why had he done it?

He glanced over at Jane: she was fast asleep, with a smile on her face. Lucius smiled to himself in response, and remembered the old saying that the quiet witches were often the worst. In the past, he had never bothered with quiet witches, so he had never had an opportunity to test this theory; but perhaps there was truth in it after all. This young woman beside him was the archetypal shrinking violet, but under his tutelage she had blossomed, and now she had just allowed him to nip and bite her, responding by opening her legs wider and thrusting her groin into his mouth. Jane Currer had hidden depths, and Lucius promised himself that he would explore them thoroughly. When he had finished with her, there was no way that Jane would settle instead for Neville, the colourless young gardener who looked at her with such longing.

It was only as he drifted into sleep that Lucius felt a twinge of guilt over his lack of fidelity to Cho.

And it was only the next day, as he lay watching the still sleeping Jane, that Lucius realised why he had acted in such a perverse manner to her. He recognised that subconsciously he had been trying to repel her, for he did indeed feel some guilt over making love to Jane now he was once again enjoying the pleasures of Cho's bed. But it had not worked. Jane was both inexperienced and smitten enough to allow Lucius to do as he would with her; more than that, she had enjoyed it, and shown every sign of willingness to repeat the experience.


	23. Chapter 23

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 23**

The following afternoon, when Bryony's lessons were finished, Draco Malfoy came to collect his sister from the room she and Jane Currer had been using as a classroom. He had promised to teach Bryony how to play croquet, and had spent part of the morning conjuring up a selection of miniature croquet mallets for her, in order to see which size would suit her best, for the full size mallets were too long and heavy for a small child to use. When Draco entered the room, Miss Currer was there alone, tidying away her books and parchments. She looked up and said, "Hello, Mr Malfoy. Bryony is in her room. Nanny is dressing her for outside; she won't be long."

Draco sat down, initially prepared to wait in silence for his sister, for his experience of Miss Currer was that she was exceedingly timid, and he did not expect to find a conversation with her particularly stimulating. Bryony's cat Nudge came over to him, and Draco stroked her white fur absentmindedly.

He had been idly watching Jane out of the corner of his eye as she sorted through her materials, but now Draco suddenly looked at her more carefully, and said neutrally, "We have not really spoken at all, Miss Currer." She agreed that this was so. He continued smoothly, "I expect my father is the one who has seen much more of you than anyone else." Draco watched her face surreptitiously to see how she would respond to this apparently innocuous remark, that was also capable of quite another interpretation. He thought he saw a fleeting uncertain expression and heightened colour, but she recovered well, and replied calmly enough, "Yes, your father is very interested in Bryony's education. He visits Gildenford Hall often, both to see her, and to speak to me about her progress."

Draco kept his tone light, and pretended not to be paying Jane undue attention; but really, he was scrutinising her carefully as he continued the conversation, and began to feel secretly pleased to have caught her alone.

The previous evening, following their return to Malfoy Manor, he and Gabrielle had discovered that his father had retired early. The couple had followed suit eagerly enough, each looking forward to the other's night time company, but they had not been in bed long before they had heard the sound of a scream in what was undoubtedly a female voice. Gabrielle had been startled, but after listening for a further while to somewhat quieter sounds from the same source, Draco had confirmed his initial suspicion that the sound came from his father's room. He too had been surprised, but remembered the days when such sounds had been frequent, especially when his mother was absent.

The question was, who was his father's companion? The only other adult female in the house was Jane Currer: it could not possibly be her. But where had Lucius found another woman, especially as he had been both celibate and exceedingly unapproachable for so many years? However the presence of a naked Gabrielle in Draco's own bed had soon distracted him from such thoughts.

Now, tickling Nudge under the chin, Draco remembered the woman he had encountered on the night of his return from France. Something had suddenly struck him about Miss Currer: he was unsure what had made him think so, perhaps it was the way she held her head, but he became convinced that he had identified Lucius' nocturnal companion of the night of his homecoming. Jane Currer was small in height, as that woman had been. Draco could not see her figure in her unflattering robes, but he felt that the shapely female of that evening could easily be hidden underneath. The long, light brown hair, worn today in a more flattering ponytail instead of Miss Currer's usual severe bun, also seemed to fit with what he had seen in the semi-darkness.

If he was right, he realised this would explain the governess's reaction when he had first met her formally at Gildenford Hall, as well as that blush from which she had just recovered in an admirable manner.

Draco was slightly bemused if this should all be true, for Lucius had always chosen the most beautiful of females, and here he was consorting with a mere governess, who was pleasing in some ways, but definitely rather plain in her everyday appearance. What on earth had made Lucius pay her any attention in the first place, and then how had he arrived at a situation where he had been able to tell that she would be very pretty indeed unclothed?

Draco pondered this new revelation. He felt the desire to confirm his suspicions, but if he found he was right, what would he do with the information? His father's love life was not his affair. However, Draco surprised himself a little: he wondered if Cho knew, and if she did not, what would she think if she found out? For he was aware there had been a recent reconciliation between them following their years apart.

Why should Draco care about Cho's feelings? In all honesty, he had not until now; but having learned that another female was sharing his father's bed, he realised that he had accepted Cho more than he realised. She was Bryony's mother, and Draco was very attached to his little sister. Also, Narcissa's portrait had told him shortly after her death that Cho was good for Lucius: her cornflower blue eyes looking deeply into her son's grey eyes so that there should be no doubting her sincerity, she had said that they loved each other, and she gave the union her blessing.

Draco decided to be bold. "Have you been to Malfoy Manor before, Miss Currer?" he asked innocently, as Nudge curled up on his lap.

"Oh, yes, Mr Malfoy," she replied immediately. Was that a slightly pinkish tinge to her face? "Miss Chang went to Hong Kong on business for a week once, so Bryony and I stayed at the Manor while she was away then too."

"You slept at the Manor overnight then?"

"Yes, as I said, for a week."

"I see. So you are familiar with the Manor?"

"I believe a lot of the rooms are not in use. I have only seen those rooms I need to know, and the grounds. On fine days, Bryony and I walked around outside, as we did yesterday. Your father came with us too sometimes."

"And what did you do in the evenings?" Draco persisted.

"After Bryony was in bed, your father and I sat in his study, and talked. We learned much about each other. Mr Malfoy is of course well-known here in England, but I lived in Brussels for a long while, and the Malfoy family are not as famous there. I had much to learn about England, even though I am English by birth. Your father also liked me to tell him about my life in Belgium."

Draco listened and wondered. Jane Currer was younger than him, younger even than Gabrielle, yet she had a certain self-possession far beyond her years. If she was indeed the female he had met in the dark, her calm, firm replies to his questions seemed to belie the shock and embarrassment she had shown when she was semi-naked. He thought about the likelihood of Lucius being attracted to her, and perhaps he could begin to see it: her voice was pleasant to the ears, and Lucius had always enjoyed talking to women. What was more important, Draco had begun to realise as he matured, was that Lucius actually listened to what the women had to say. They responded to him naturally because of this, and coupled with his undoubted good looks before the fire, in the past this had given Lucius his pick of female company. He could imagine his father initially being merely polite to Miss Currer, but her voice and her confident manner were attractive in themselves. Lucius could be fearsome when he chose, but this woman would not be afraid of him.

As Jane spoke, answering Draco's queries, her face became animated, and she seemed much less plain. Draco became distracted by thoughts of what Lucius might have been doing to make her scream that way last night, and images of a naked Jane filled his head. He was sorely tempted to ask her if she had seen the inside of his father's bedroom.

But his questioning was halted by the appearance of Bryony, who greeted Draco noisily, rushing up to him and hugging him tightly. She then firmly took his hand to lead him outside, and they left the room together, followed closely by a small white cat.

* * *

Gabrielle Delacour entered Narcissa Malfoy's bedroom, and silently closed the door behind her. She was certain she was alone upstairs in Malfoy Manor except for her visitor, and perhaps a house elf or two, for Bryony and Jane Currer were busy with lessons downstairs, and Draco and his father were both out; but Gabrielle was taking no chances, and remained alert. She saw that Narcissa was awake, and already watching her keenly, so she lost no time in going to stand before her. She spoke to the portrait urgently in French: "Madame Malfoy, I must speak to you. I have heard something that concerns me greatly, and I believe you can help. Please, Madame, would you agree to see someone? I know you do not approve of her, but it is better you should hear it from her lips."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Who is this person?" she asked suspiciously, also speaking in French.

" 'Ermione Granger. I am aware that she is out of favour with the Malfoys, and I would not ask you were I not convinced of the importance of the matter."

She received a very hard stare from the late Mrs Malfoy, who then said, "Very well. I dislike the witch, but I trust your judgement. Bring her in."

When summoned from the corridor where she had been waiting, Hermione entered the boudoir, glanced briefly around the room, and then went to stand in front of Narcissa Malfoy's last portrait. Gabrielle noted the instant antagonism between the two women: Narcissa stared down her nose at Hermione almost contemptuously from those brilliant blue eyes, and Hermione's hazel eyes stared back defiantly from her inferior position.

"Please, 'Ermione, tell Madame Malfoy about ze pendant."

Hermione then told Narcissa the same tale that she had so far recited firstly to Dumbledore and then to Gabrielle, about Lucius' visit to Transpires University library, and his conversation with Godric Gryffindor's portrait. As this story concerned Lucius, Narcissa listened carefully, her sneering expression soon replaced by one of interest. Hermione then explained about Voldemort's creation of the horcruxes many years before, and told how she had consulted Dumbledore's portrait. When she reached the part where she had discussed Bryony's Parseltongue abilities, Narcissa gasped.

"I did not know that Bryony is a Parselmouth! Nobody came to tell me."

When Hermione mentioned Crookshanks' attack on Bryony, Narcissa at first looked as if she would like to hex Hermione, for she had been informed of the attack by Lucius, and shared his view that the young woman in charge of such a dangerous beast should have been punished with a Crucio curse. But when Hermione explained about her beloved pet's ability to spot evil, and illustrated the point by describing his earlier recognition that Ron's pet rat Scabbers was in fact a Death Eater in animagus form, the portrait's expression changed to one of growing horror; it became apparent that both Narcissa and Dumbledore had separately reached the same conclusion from the evidence. Narcissa listened and nodded silently as Hermione recounted the old Headmaster's deduction that Bryony Chang was now hosting whatever remained of Lord Voldemort.

Hermione stopped speaking, and Narcissa said to her, "Is that everything, Miss Granger?" When Hermione agreed that it was, Mrs Malfoy then said, "Miss Granger, there has always been ill feeling between you and the Malfoys. However, I would like to assure you that you have done the right thing by telling me all this. I believe that you have Bryony's best interests at heart, and because she is Lucius' daughter, so have I. Now, I would ask you to leave. You would not wish to meet Lucius or my son here, and also I must now speak to Gabrielle alone; there are matters here that concern only she and I. But I thank you. Now, please go."

When Hermione had disapparated, Narcissa turned to Gabrielle, speaking in French once more: "Where is Lucius?"

"He is with Draco at Cho's Chic. They are being measured for their wedding suits."

"Lucius must be told. There are things both he and I know that have a bearing on this matter, and also convince me that Miss Granger and Albus Dumbledore are correct. This latest revelation of the Dark Lord prolonging his existence by the creation of horcruxes also helps to clarify certain events that occurred immediately before my death.

"Gabrielle, I know that you came to me because of the Subtle Knife. You realised that the Knife is a perfect way to destroy this last horcrux, did you not?"

"Yes, Madame. When 'Ermione first described a 'orcrux to me I was astounded to learn that such evil could have been performed, even by Voldemort. I was so worried about Bryony, at first I could not think properly. But then it came to me: the Knife, it can cut anything, _n'est-ce pas_? Therefore we can at least destroy the final 'orcrux. That will also weaken Voldemort, I think – do you not agree?"

Narcissa nodded. "You are right. But it will also make him very dangerous indeed. We must not let him suspect that we know anything, so you must be sure to behave normally around Bryony. Once we have destroyed the horcrux, she must be watched day and night in case the Dark Lord decides to try something desperate.

"But Gabrielle, I must tell you that I cannot share all I know with you. Firstly I must speak to Lucius, for he knows everything I know. You must not be offended, it is not my secret to share, it is his, and he keeps it not only to protect himself, but because there is another who must never know the truth, because of the harm it could cause. If need be, would you, while remaining ignorant of the whole truth, help him with the task of freeing his daughter from the clutches of evil? For I think I see a way it may be achieved."

"Of course, Madame. She is an innocent child, and soon to be my sister. If I can help, I will do it." Gabrielle paused awhile, thinking, then she took a deep breath, and said, "Madame, I do not know why I should think this, but I have a feeling that this possession is connected with Bryony's near death, and our rescue of her from the World Beyond."

Narcissa gazed out of the window for a long time, clearly thinking. Gabrielle sat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed opposite the portrait, and waited, trying to hide her impatience. Finally, Narcissa's golden head turned towards her, and her cornflower blue eyes looked searchingly at the younger woman as she asked her, "Gabrielle, do you remember exactly what happened when you rescued Bryony?"

"Yes, Madame, I think so."

"Describe it to me in detail. Leave nothing out, anything may be important."

Gabrielle described her journey to the World Beyond: the terrifying abyss, her Veela guide, the crane Ba bird escaping through the window she cut into the World of the Living.

"Then I nearly fell into the abyss. I did fall part of the way, but Lucius rescued me. He was the god Thoth. He caught me in his arms."

Narcissa had been paying close attention to everything Gabrielle said. "Did you obey the Veela guide in all things?" she asked. "Think hard, what were her instructions to you?"

Gabrielle concentrated, trying to recall the words of her guide. "She told me to cut using the supernatural blade. I must not let the Knife slip, else I would cut myself, and the wound would not heal: then I would be trapped in the World Beyond forever. She said I must close the window when the Ba bird had been set free – but she could not tell me how to do it! And then I began to fall into the abyss!

"Madame, I did not close the window! I did not know the way to do it, and then I nearly died myself!"

Narcissa nodded, as if she had been expecting something of this kind. "So, there was a way from the World Beyond into our world in St Mungo's? Bryony remained in the same room, did she not? Lord Voldemort could still feel the connection between himself and that last horcrux: once the window was cut, it finally permitted him to re-enter the light, and to take possession of Bryony.

"Leave me now, Gabrielle. I need to think. Tell Lucius to see me when he can. I am sorry to ask you to keep it from him, but Draco must know nothing of this matter. I will tell Lucius everything."

Much later the same day, Lucius sat on the ottoman and stared at Narcissa. She had told him to sit, and recounted the whole tale to him. She had thought it prudent not to mention that Hermione Granger had been to the Manor, and made it seem as though she had learned everything from Gabrielle, although there was no way Narcissa could hide Miss Granger's part in the matter, and her spying on Lucius at the university. When he had first learned of this, Lucius had been furious, but Narcissa had calmed him by speaking in an even voice, pointing out that in spite of his animosity towards the Granger woman, she was in fact very concerned for Bryony, and had she not thought to check up on Lucius, they would now still be in complete ignorance of the danger in which they all stood.

Lucius was stunned for a while, digesting all that his late wife had told him. He thought over what she had said, and nodded slowly. In a low voice, he said, "Miss Granger and Dumbledore are right. You are right. There is something else that fits the picture;" and he told Narcissa of Bryony's furious and apparently prescient reaction when he had returned the amulet to her room.

"It was as if she were possessed; she was not herself. Her eyes even appeared red, just as his were red. Then suddenly she became her old self, and it was as if she then saw me for the first time."

"Oh, Lucius," said Narcissa's portrait wearily, "I thought I had killed Voldemort forever with the Subtle Knife: removed him permanently from our presence, so that you who remained could begin to rebuild your lives again. The Knife was strong enough to kill any normal man, however evil; but that last horcrux has allowed him to return.

"Voldemort killed me and he tried to kill you. He once tried and failed to make our son into a murderer. Now the Dark Lord has his final revenge on his once faithful followers the Malfoys, for turning on him at last: he has invaded the body of a six-year-old child with Malfoy blood in her veins."


	24. Chapter 24

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 24**

Gabrielle jumped up nervously from her perch on the edge of the ottoman as Lucius apparated into Narcissa's bedroom. She had obviously been waiting for some time. The living Narcissa had chosen to furnish her boudoir with a deep pile carpet, and Gabrielle had trodden and retrodden a path up and down the room that now remained as an impression in her wake.

"Is she asleep? Did she take ze potion willingly?" asked the young French witch anxiously, unconsciously tossing back her long white-blonde hair.

Lucius nodded, visibly relieved. "Yes. I hoped she would not ask for Miss Currer, and she did not. She was pleased for me to put her to bed and read her a story: I know she likes me to do that when she stays here. In fact, she complained to me tonight that I had not done it enough this time, and now I must do it every night until she goes back home." Lucius smiled ruefully as he remembered the trust in his daughter's large brown eyes.

"I could not risk giving her the unadulterated potion, for it is such a distinctive lilac colour that I feared the Dark Lord would recognise it; it is very probable that he has come across it at some time in the past. I asked Snape to disguise the natural taste of the potion, for I'm sure that the wormwood must make it very bitter. He said the result should taste of heather honey, so I used it to sweeten the cocoa Bryony sometimes drinks before she sleeps. Snape must have done this extra task very well, because Bryony drank it all, and she only noticed the bitterness afterwards when it was too late. She had just begun to pull a face when she fell asleep.

"I also gave the cat a sleeping draught, so it will not disturb us."

"And 'ow does she look? Is it as ze books say – a Living Des?"

"Yes, the books are right: the potion is well named as the Draught of Living Death. Bryony looks like a corpse. She is not breathing; her skin has lost its colour. I think even a Healer would believe she is truly dead."

"But is 'E Oo Must Not Be Named also fooled? I wonder."

Lucius shook his head. "We cannot know for certain, we can only hope. But remember to say nothing of the potion in his presence. Come, Gabrielle, we must not waste any time. You have the Knife, I trust?"

The pair apparated into Bryony's Malfoy Manor bedroom. Gabrielle went over to the bed, and looked down at the child: she did indeed seem bereft of life, her pale face developing dark hollows under her closed eyes. Gabrielle touched her hand: it was still warm, for she had only just fallen under the spell of the potentially lethal potion, brewed with infinite care by Severus Snape.

He had not asked any questions, but had looked long and hard at his old friend Lucius Malfoy when he had made his request, saying, "Severus, you are the only potion maker I would trust to make this for me. I do not have enough faith in my own skill, and it is essential that there should be no mistakes with this draught."

"And," Snape had asked smoothly, with a mere flick of his eyebrows as his dark eyes bored into Lucius, "Do you require the antidote also?" Lucius now ran his hands over his pocket to reassure himself that he had that other precious phial safely on his person. He said to Gabrielle, "You check under her pillow, and I will look in her treasure box again."

For the pair had entered the same room two days earlier, firstly ensuring that Bryony was safely ensconced with Miss Currer in their temporary schoolroom. Lucius had decided to act as soon as possible, for it would be much easier to destroy the amulet here at the Manor than to wait until Bryony was once again living at Gildenford Hall. But when he strode over to the dressing table and opened Bryony's Chinese lacquer treasure box, he had discovered that the pendant was nowhere to be found. In vain, Lucius had turned over the contents of the box, but he had seen he was wasting his time.

"It is not here; she must have decided to keep it about her person since I took it before," he had said to Gabrielle, who was waiting with her hand on the Subtle Knife in her pocket. In case he was wrong, Lucius had held out his wand and said firmly, "Accio Gryffindor's amulet," but to no avail: nothing had approached him from any other hiding place in the room, or from elsewhere in the Manor when he opened the bedroom door. If Bryony had kept the pendant with her, Voldemort possessed strong enough magic to hold it there against a summoning spell..

So this evening Lucius was not surprised when he found the amulet was still not in Bryony's treasure box. He turned to Gabrielle, to see her holding out her hand triumphantly, with the Thor's Hammer pendant lying on her palm. " 'Ere it is, Monsieur, it was under 'er pillow as we guessed."

"Give it to me while you take out the Knife." Lucius held out his hand for the amulet, and looked about him for a place to carry out the deed. He took a cushion from the armchair by the bed, placed it on the floor, and put the pendant on top of it. He stood back and waited as Gabrielle carefully, for the second time in her life, undid the buckles securing the Subtle Knife to its dragon skin sheath. She slid out the Knife, keeping her gaze fixed upon it, using both her eyes and the feel of the two contrasting wire Veela figures to identify the steel edge: the blade that would cut through any material.

Gabrielle approached Godric Gryffindor's pendant, and stood for a moment looking down at it, her face almost as white as her hair. She closed her eyes, as if gathering strength from an unseen source. Then she knelt, holding the handle of the Knife firmly in both hands, and brought the steel blade down slowly onto the bronze amulet. The steel edge of the Subtle Knife sliced through the ancient metal as though it were merely sinking through butter. The pendant broke instantly into three pieces as the blade passed into the cushion. Gabrielle halted her downstroke in time to prevent herself from cutting into the carpet, and sat back on her heels in slight surprise; for she had expected something dramatic to happen following the severing of the amulet.

For a while indeed it seemed that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, save the fact that the Knife had so easily cut the bronze. Then, slowly, the pendant began to bleed what looked like golden mercury, forming flat globules that gathered others to them. The molten metal then began to stream over the edge of the cushion to the floor in rivulets, and a moaning sound came from the site of the cut, slowly increasing in volume until it became a muffled howl of anguish. The cool pools of melted bronze then gradually evaporated, until all that remained of Godric Gryffindor's precious amulet were the three shards of the Thor's Hammer on the cushion, seemingly unaffected by the strange metallic bleeding.

Gabrielle and Lucius looked at each other, and then out of the corner of his eye, Lucius saw a movement, and turned towards the bed.

Bryony was sitting up, her eyes open and unfocused. Her face still resembled a death mask, but her mouth was open, and from it emerged a wisp of a shadow, so insubstantial that the two watchers were unsure whether they had imagined it; until they heard it speak with the unmistakable high, cruel voice of Lord Voldemort. Lucius knew that voice well, but Gabrielle, who had never before encountered the Dark Lord in person, shivered involuntarily at the concentrated evil in its tone:

"Traitor! Malfoy is untrustworthy, always working for himself and not for his Lord. How many times have you betrayed me now, Lucius, my slippery friend?" The voice was not as it had once been, powerful and commanding; now it was barely audible.

Lucius ignored the words and turned to Gabrielle. "Do you know what to do?" he asked her in a low voice.

"No," she replied, "I must ask for guidance like before. I 'ope ze Veela will guide me again." She closed her eyes once more, and her lips moved, but Lucius could hear no words. Gabrielle stood motionless with the Knife held out before her. Lucius saw that she now seemed to be in a trance, just as before when she had saved Bryony.

As Gabrielle had hoped, the Veela guide appeared, floating above her on gossamer wings. "The Secret Keeper is in danger," Gabrielle told her wordlessly as the Veela descended. "She has been possessed by a great malevolence, who once reserved his hatred for Muggles and their kin, but now hates all who dare to stand in his way, even pure blood wizards. Bryony's father has challenged him, and he would hurt the Secret Keeper for pure revenge. This evil creature should be dead. Indeed he has died more than once, but he is strong in the Dark Arts, and created six horcruxes to defy the laws of the World Beyond, and prolong his existence. We have lately discovered the sixth and last of these; and this I have just destroyed with the Subtle Knife."

"We must bring his shade back into the World Beyond," said the Veela. "He has committed a great blasphemy by challenging the power of the World of the Dead. The Great Measurer will weigh his heart, and will surely find it heavier than the Feather of Maat: then he will be consumed by Ammut, as befits such an evil one.

"But first you must find a way to persuade him to return to the World of the Dead."

"'E 'as no refuge," said Gabrielle firmly, speaking out loud. "Ze last 'orcrux 'as been destroyed, and 'e can no longer 'ide in ze child, for she is dead. Look, see 'ow still and pale she is. She is a Malfoy, so she should be buried in ze family tomb, but 'er fazer 'as decided to burn 'er body to be sure zat she goes to ze World Beyond totally pure and free from evil."

She began to walk towards the shadow that was Voldemort, saying, " 'E is wisout any 'iding place in zis World of ze Living, for 'ere is no body ready to accept 'im."

Gabrielle stood before the evil apparition, tall, pale and willowy, a look of disdain on her beautiful face. She raised the Subtle Knife high above her head, and spoke in a voice and language that were not her own. As one accustomed to command, she addressed Voldemort unfalteringly in the ancient wizard tongue, and although Lucius did not know the archaic language, by some means he understood perfectly what she said:

"Depart from this world, last vestige of Lord Voldemort; cause of strife amongst wizards; killer of both wizards and Muggles; splitter of thy very soul; whose continued existence is an abomination and effrontery to both the World of the Living and the World Beyond. Approach the Great Measurer if thou darest, for surely thine evil heart will weigh more than the Feather of Maat, and thus wilt thou deservedly be consumed by Ammut."

Gabrielle suddenly twisted the Subtle Knife in her hand, and cut sharply across before her with the silver edge. "Depart, I say," she said in the same voice of authority. "I have opened the way for thee. Thy time here is finally at an end. Thou must obey. Go!"

She pointed to the window she had just cut into the World Beyond, using the hand that held the Knife. The infinitesimally fine edges glittered in the candlelight, and the flat of the lethal blade was clouded with shifting smoky hues.

The shadowy creature hovering near Bryony gave a howl of rage and lunged towards Lucius, who, not expecting this attack, lost his footing and stumbled against the bedpost. But it was a last act of rebellion, for the shadow was now drawn helplessly towards the window between the worlds, where it distorted into a flat ribbon of ectoplasm and was forced through into the World Beyond.

There Gabrielle saw them waiting; the gods themselves: Anubis, Thoth, Maat; and beside them the demon Ammut. This would be Voldemort's final judgement. Anubis, the jackal-headed Guardian of the Underworld, would lead Voldemort to the Scales of Maat, the goddess of Truth and Justice. Gabrielle saw that Voldemort had now transformed into the Egyptian snake monster of perpetual darkness and evil; he who tried daily to prevent Ra the sun from rising once more. There was no doubt in Gabrielle's mind that his black heart would be found heavier than the Feather of Maat, and once this judgement was recorded by Thoth, Arbiter of Justice, Voldemort's soul would deservedly be torn apart and devoured by the crocodile-headed Ammut.

She was about to turn away, but then realised that she would be the sole witness from the World of the Living. She must watch, in order to be certain of Voldemort's demise.

So Gabrielle stood, expressionless, and it was as she knew it would be. She was sickened by the sight and sounds of Voldemort's end, but she bore it in order to complete her assigned task.

Beside her, Lucius saw Gabrielle order the Dark Lord to his doom, using the powerful words of the ancient tongue. He saw the Knife in her hand, the blade mysterious in its swirling depths. He saw what remained of Voldemort pass through the window into the World Beyond. Then he saw Gabrielle standing like an ethereal statue, as if watching something he could not see; on her face was an expression of mild distaste. He worried that she would forget she held the Knife, for her concentration was elsewhere. Lucius watched her carefully, ready to catch the Knife or Gabrielle herself. When she swayed, he caught her, and laid her on the floor, carefully removing the Subtle Knife from her grasp: this he sheathed safely and placed in his own pocket. Then he put a cushion under her pale hair, and sat in the armchair, patiently waiting.

Lucius knew in his heart that this remarkable woman was safe, but he needed certain confirmation that all was well so that he could carry out his final task: the administration of the antidote to his daughter, who lay still as death, her bloodless skin now cold to the touch.

The antidote: Lucius suddenly realised with a shock that when he had stumbled he had heard a crunching noise. His heart in his mouth, he felt gingerly in his pocket, but instead the of the phial he had placed there, he found sharp shards of glass on which he cut his fingers in spit of his careful movements, and the phial's precious contents were soaking into his black robes.

Lucius blanched, and he felt as if his heart had been torn from his body. He let out an inhuman cry that, in contrast to the feeble noise made so recently by his late Lord, echoed around the room. His child, his precious, darling daughter, lay once more in a coma on the very edge of existence; and this time it was he that had done this to her.

Thus it was that Jane found them, scurrying as fast as she could along the corridor from her guest room, where she had been taking a leisurely bath before her fire while Lucius put Bryony to bed. She had heard that wail of despair, and had been drawn irresistibly to its source, scarcely taking taking time to cover her nakedness, so anxious was she to discover its cause. In her hastily donned dressing gown, wet hair falling like a damp curtain over her shoulders, Jane rushed into Bryony's bedroom, and stopped in horror at the sight that greeted her: Lucius' head was sunk in his hands, his shoulders shaking with grief. Jane could hardly believe her eyes and ears, for great sobs came from this man she had always thought of as strong and self-controlled. Beside him on the floor lay Gabrielle Delacour, pale and beautiful, seemingly unconscious, but evidently alive.

Jane's eyes travelled to the bed, and she gasped in horror. She moved closer, and looked down on her small charge, hoping against hope that her first impression had been mistaken; but it was not. Bryony Chang lay there, dead. Jane touched her bloodless face and hands, and she was already cold. With increasing dread, she tried in vain to find a pulse in the child's neck and in her tiny wrist; she held a hand mirror before Bryony's face, but it did not mist over.

Jane walked over to Lucius, knelt in front of his chair, and took his bloody hands in hers. She tried to speak, but firstly her mouth was too dry, and then her voice shook so that she could hardly form the words. Finally, she managed, "Lucius, I'm here. It's Jane. Lucius, I'll stay with you as long as you need me. Lucius, please look at me. Please, tell me, what happened here?"

Lucius looked up, his face streaked with tears and blood from his hand. He was too choked to speak. Jane wrapped her arms about his torso, and hugged him as tightly as she could, tears starting in her own eyes and falling unchecked down her flushed cheeks.


	25. Chapter 25

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 25**

Gabrielle Delacour regained consciousness to find herself lying on the floor, her head supported on a cushion. She realised immediately where she was, but as she sat up, the sight that greeted her stunned her: for her future father-in-law was seated in an armchair, his face streaked with bloody tears, and kneeling on the floor at his feet, holding his hands in hers and kissing them, was Jane Currer. She was wearing a dressing gown that had obviously been hastily arranged, for it had fallen open at the front. Gabrielle could see Jane's breasts, and surely Lucius could see them even more clearly from his position. Yet Jane, normally so prim and modest, with her partly unclothed body clearly visible and her long wet hair disarranged, did not seem to care at all. Gabrielle then remembered the recent scream in the night, and all fell into place: Jane was the one who had uttered that ecstatic cry: she it was who had warmed Lucius' bed while Bryony's mother was in Japan.

But that matter could wait. Gabrielle turned towards Bryony's bed, to see how the child was recovering, and was shocked to see that she was still lying there as if dead. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if Bryony was truly a corpse; but then she reassured herself that it was not so: the remaining life within the still, small body, undetectable by any normal witch, or even by any but the most sensitive Healer, spoke to the Veela within Gabrielle as loudly as if the child were calling her name.

Gabrielle stood up rapidly, was forced to bow her head for a short while when she felt momentarily faint, and then went over to Lucius. She put a firm hand on his shoulder, and said, "Monsieur! Tell me, what 'as 'appened to Bryony? Did ze antidote not work? Monsieur Malfoy! Speak to me!"

Lucius looked up, a slightly dazed expression on his face. "There is no antidote," he said, forcing out the words. "The phial has broken."

Gabrielle looked into those grey eyes filled with pain, and saw a different Lucius: he seemed helpless with grief, as if his mind had grown numb and refused to work. Speaking to him gently, she said, "Monsieur, all is not lost. We can get some more."

"More?"

"Yes, why not? If you wish to stay wiz Bryony, we can send an owl, or I will go to see Professeur Snape for you."

"No, it's useless! We do not have time! It will be too late!"

"Time? Yes, of course zere is enough time! Do you not know 'ow ze Draught of Living Des works?"

"Gabrielle, the antidote must be used within two hours of administering the potion! Yes, I am certain Snape said as much; and it took him more than two hours to brew both potions. He has neither in stock, for they must be freshly prepared. Gabrielle, what are you saying? Snape is a Master of Potions, his ability and knowledge were always beyond even that of Slughorn, his own potions teacher at Hogwarts. Do you claim to know more about potions than him? When we made our plan, you knew no more than I."

Gabrielle frowned, for Lucius was right about her earlier apparent ignorance. She thought carefully, for the Veela have knowledge beyond mortal wizards, especially in matters of life and death; and just as no wizard would reveal his magical knowledge to a mere Muggle, the Veela also have their secrets that they keep from wizards. The Veela sisterhood had learned over millennia that it is prudent not to mention such powers before warlocks and wizards, who might then seek to use one of their sorority to further their own unworthy ends.

Lucius also seemed to have forgotten that they had an audience; for Jane Currer, still kneeling, was regarding the pair from wide, astonished eyes. But Gabrielle had not forgotten, and she must therefore on both accounts refrain from saying too much.

She said to Lucius, hoping that the hastily invented explanation would be plausible, "Ze asphodel in ze potion 'as a link wiz ze underworld. Remember, I am part Veela. Ze properties of ze potion were revealed to me when you first opened ze phial and ze fumes were released. I breazed in ze fumes, and zey spoke to me. Ze potion itself, it does not kill. Bryony will remain in ze Living Des until she is given ze antidote. She will only die if we wait so long she dies of de'ydration, for _naturellement_ she cannot eat or drink.

"So, Monsieur, zere is time enough for Professeur Snape to make you more."

Lucius' expression changed in an instant as Gabrielle's words sunk in. He stood up, and Jane Currer stood also. She looked from one face to the other in puzzlement, unable to comprehend that these two were responsible for Bryony's condition; and that Bryony was not in fact dead, but in some kind of drugged suspended animation.

Lucius hesitated, deciding what to do. Then he said, "I will go and see Snape myself. It is better that I should be the one to explain what just occurred."

Gabrielle said gently, "Monsieur, I know Professeur Snape is your friend, but I suggest you do not tell 'im what I 'ave just said, for it is not wise to tell a Potions Master 'is business. Say instead zat you 'ave not yet used ze draught.

"Oh, and Monsieur, I sink you should wash your face before you leave, so 'e does not see zat you are upset."

Lucius nodded. "You are right, my dear. And I shall not, of course, tell him what really happened here." He then disapparated immediately, the sorrow on his face replaced by a determined expression.

Gabrielle and Jane looked at each other, the French witch trying not to stare at Jane's exposed breasts. Then Jane realised her state of _déshabille_, and blushed deeply, drawing her dressing gown more closely about her, and retying the sash so that she was more modestly covered. Jane then said, "Gabrielle, I do not pretend to understand what is happening here, but tell me one thing: is Bryony truly still alive?"

"Yes, she is; and zere is no reason why she should not be perfectly un'armed when she wakes up. But Jane, you also are a surprise for me." Gabrielle then said carefully, "It is per'aps not my place to say zis, but I see you are very close to Monsieur Malfoy."

"Yes, I am," replied Jane, honestly and simply.

"And it was you we 'eard ze ozzer night in 'is room, Draco and I, when we came back to ze Manor?"

Jane's face was now bright crimson, and she merely nodded in affirmation.

"And Cho?" asked Gabrielle quietly, "What of 'er?"

Jane sighed deeply. "I know how it must seem to you Gabrielle, but our relationship began while Miss Chang and Lucius were estranged. I made sure to ask about her, and was told they had parted three years ago."

Gabrielle nodded her head in sympathy, for this put the subject into quite a different light. "Ah, I see. And now zey are togezzer again? Zat is difficult for you, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"Yes. I thought I had lost him. But it seems he still wants me."

"But Jane, what will you do? 'E goes to Gildenford 'All every night when Cho is zere."

"I know. I have even heard them together," replied Jane despondently. "I know Lucius loves Miss Chang. But I love him so much, I cannot refuse him anything. I think, in the end, I must leave, for this situation is impossible; but for now, I live one day at a time." She looked up at Gabrielle. "Do you think I am wicked and wrong for doing this?"

Gabrielle smiled, an ethereal creature barely of this world, her white-blonde hair glowing like a halo in the candlelight. "No, Jane, you are not wicked. And it is not for me to decide whezzer you are right or wrong. I can see 'ow attractive Monsieur Malfoy is; am I not about to marry 'is son, who is very like 'im in many ways? Also, you do not say zis, but I know 'is reputation for great skill in ze ways of love: oo would not wish to learn from such a man?" She put her arms around Jane's shoulders, and kissed her on each cheek. "Do not worry what ozzers sink, Jane. Do as your 'eart tells you."

Even as Gabrielle spoke to Jane of her continuing friendship and her acceptance of the governess's secret love for Lucius Malfoy, simultaneously she performed a small act of treachery. The young French witch, calling upon her Veela powers to reinforce the magic she had learned at Beauxbatons, whispered under her breath, "Obliviate", all the while stroking Jane's damp hair in the manner of a mother reassuring a child.

Thus Gabrielle Delacour preserved the Malfoy secret of the last days of Voldemort.

* * *

The extended Chang family had just finished Sunday lunch at Gildenford Hall. This ritual still persisted, although less frequently than previously. The many dishes of a Chinese banquet had finally been consumed, with a small portion of each symbolically remaining to demonstrate the generosity of the hosts. Witches and wizards left the table in twos and threes, talking enthusiastically about the price of jade, Quidditch, or a friend's new baby; or in the case of the youngsters, arguing over which was the best new trick from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Cho was about to stand up, when her grandmother asked her quietly to remain behind.

Bryony had departed with her cousins. In deference to her recent near death experience, which awed them somewhat, the other children were less boisterous than normal, and there was less of their usual pushing and jostling. The family all knew that Bryony had nearly died from laburnum poisoning a few weeks previously; but as far as her recent illness was concerned, they had been told that the young witch had been unfortunate enough to catch a case of phantom fur balls from her pet cat Nudge: the poor child had coughed up any number of fur balls in the last week, and as a result was quite weak from coughing so frequently. Bryony's own memory had been modified by her father so that she too believed the story, and she told her Chang cousins seriously in a small, hoarse voice how the fur balls had tickled the back of her throat.

Now, the children chattered and giggled with their customary enthusiasm, and their noisy progress could be heard as they made their way along the corridor, quite making up for any lack of the same from a slightly subdued Bryony, who was nevertheless determined not to miss any of the fun.

Jane Currer was, as usual, absent. There was a standing invitation that she was welcome to eat with the family during these Sunday meals, but Jane always quietly excused herself. As a governess she was not a servant, but neither was she a Chang by birth or by marriage, and large gatherings such as these only served to accentuate this fact. So it had been agreed between Jane and Madam Chang that Sundays were her regular free day, and thus she might spend them any way she chose. Today, she had gone to visit an elderly distant relative who lived in London.

Madam Chang closed the door after the stragglers, and sat across the table from Cho. Bryony's mother had been told the story of the phantom fur balls on her return from Tokyo, and she had accepted this tale without question, as had her grandmother. Madam Chang now regarded Cho seriously from wise eyes, busily alert in her aged face.

"I know we live in the same house, Cho, but we rarely see each other. So I am taking the chance today to speak to you, because I can see that things have changed again between you and Lucius Malfoy. Of course, we are all aware that you are reconciled." Cho felt herself blushing at this statement. "If this is what you wanted, I am happy for you, and also for Bryony. I do admit that in the beginning I was greatly doubtful about Mr Malfoy's suitability as a parent, but he has proven himself to be a loving and caring father, and Bryony loves him too. I can see it would be good for all of you if you were to be a family again.

"But now we have an added complication. I employed Jane Currer for you as a governess, and now that her presence here has affected more than only Bryony, I see you do not know what to do. No, Cho, do not look so surprised! I know that Lucius has been seeing Jane, and not only as Bryony's father. Before your reconciliation, he paid her a great deal of attention, which did not go unremarked. The house elves know that she spent two nights away from the Hall, and it does not take a genius to deduce that she spent those nights at Malfoy Manor, especially when her demeanour was so altered on her return."

Cho gasped at this revelation, for although she had told Alan of her suspicions, there had always been the small possibility that she was mistaken. It now seemed that there was no further doubt, for Madam Chang would not have mentioned these facts were she not almost certain of their interpretation. Now she looked at Cho more closely, and said, "I see I have confirmed what you merely suspected. I am sorry to be the bearer of such tidings, but it is better to be open, is it not?"

Cho sighed, and said, "You're right of course. I did suspect there was something between them, but didn't know how to ask Lucius if it was true. If I said nothing, I could pretend I didn't know." She looked up at her grandmother, and said quietly, almost forcing out the words, "Do you know what happened while I was in Japan?"

The old witch nodded. "I insisted that Nanny went with Bryony. I pretended it was to free Miss Currer from the responsibilities of childcare: I told her that it was not a governess's place to be a nursemaid, she is a teacher. Really, of course, Nanny was my eyes and ears at Malfoy Manor. I asked her to watch and listen and keep me informed."

"And?"

"Jane did not sleep in her own bed. Every night but one, she went to Lucius. Nanny even heard them the first night. Jane also started to wear her hair in a more attractive style for the duration of her stay, but I see she has gone back to her old habits again now."

Cho looked hopelessly at Madam Chang, seemingly unable to respond. Her grandmother continued, "The first thing I must ask you is, do you wish to terminate Jane Currer's appointment?"

Cho bit her lip, and then looked up. "I do not want to sack Jane," she replied quietly but firmly. "She's a very good teacher, and Bryony loves her. Also, I can't reasonably blame Lucius for seeking consolation with someone else. He had been alone with no female company for a long while, and we were living apart. Nor can I blame Jane for responding to Lucius if he was kind to her. I was once in the same position as her: I thought he no longer cared for his wife. But it does hurt that Lucius is still seeing her now we're so much closer again."

Madam Chang nodded. "I am pleased to hear you say this, Cho. I would not have liked you to send Jane away because of her involvement with Lucius, for I too feel she is blameless. So on that matter we are both agreed. But does Lucius really care for Jane, or is she merely a convenience? What is to happen to her? For I believe she is in love with him. She arranged to go to China with young Neville at very short notice. I think she wished to get away from Lucius for a while. She planned to only go for a week so that she would be here when Bryony came home, but I tried to persuade her to go for the full two weeks, as I thought she was right that distance might help her to think more clearly. But then she returned, and now we know that Lucius is still interested in her.

"Has it occurred to you, Cho, that it is possible she may decide to leave us of her own free will if she finds the situation unbearable? For she must know that you two are reconciled."

"Yes, she's in a very difficult position," agreed Cho. "She might leave to avoid seeing Lucius anymore."

"Then let me ask you something. Let us suppose that for Lucius Jane is more than just a passing fancy, and that she decides to remain here. Could you live with this fact? Would you expect Lucius to put her aside for you? Or could you tolerate it if he persisted in sleeping with her?"

Cho stared at her grandmother. "I don't know, Grandma," she said hopelessly, "That's what I've been asking myself over and over again. It's why I haven't asked Lucius to confirm my suspicions, because I didn't know what I would decide to do if I knew."

Madam Chang sat very still, and her eyes took on a faraway look. Then she focused on Cho once more, and said slowly, "Cho, there is another way. There is more than one way to solve this situation. You are Chinese. Remember your great grandmother.

"Try to think of things in an Eastern way. It may be the solution."


	26. Chapter 26

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 26**

It was almost two o'clock, and Jane Currer was checking that Bryony was clean and tidy. The young witch had just started her education once more after recovering from her second near death experience: for although the Draught of Living Death was not designed to kill its victims, it still required a period of convalescence until the sufferer was entirely well again.

If anyone had asked Jane what was the cause of Bryony's last illness, she too would have recited the story of the phantom fur balls, for Lucius had performed a second "Obliviate" charm on her, and had placed in her memory the story told to the rest of the family.

Jane had reintroduced Bryony gently to the world of learning, with two days of lessons involving more play than study, and today had concluded with Bryony enthusiastically drawing a picture of her ward at St Mungo's, peopled by her favourite Mediwitches, with a colourful Madam Luxor in lime green robes as the centre of attention. Bryony loved drawing, but usually coloured herself, and the voluminous apron Jane insisted she wore, at least as much as the parchment. A diligent application of soap and water followed by a final "Scourgify" from Jane's wand was always necessary to remove the last traces of Muggle ink, that was so much more permanent than the vegetable-based dyes of the wizarding world.

Jane was about to take Bryony to fetch her warm cloak, and then go with her into the garden, when there was a knock at the door, and in walked Lucius Malfoy. It was the first time Jane had seen Lucius since she and Bryony had left Malfoy Manor to return to Gildenford Hall. She looked at him in much the same way as a rabbit caught in the light of a lantern; but the small child demanding his attention momentarily distracted Lucius' attention away from her governess, and Jane had chance to compose herself as Bryony insisted that her father admire her picture. This time he did not need to guess the subject, for Bryony pointed out everything to him. "Miss Currer says I can send it to Madam Luxor to say thank you," she said proudly, "But I have to wait till tomorrow when the ink is all dry."

"And how will Madam Luxor know it's from you?" asked Lucius gravely, but with a twinkle in his eye. "She probably has another little girl to make better now. She cures little girls all the time, she's a very clever Healer. I expect she has a roomful of pictures from grateful little girls. I think you should write your name on the picture, then she can show everyone, 'Look at this lovely picture from Bryony Chang.' I'm sure Miss Currer will give you a piece of parchment to practise on first, so that your signature looks just as nice as your drawing."

Jane smiled at this devious way to get Bryony to practise her handwriting, and as she did so Lucius turned and saw her face. He smiled back, and the way he looked at her made Jane's stomach turn to water, and her knees almost gave way underneath her.

"May I escort you two ladies into the garden?" Lucius said, the knowing glint still in his eye. Bryony giggled at being addressed in such a manner, and Jane could not prevent the corners of her mouth from lifting too.

The three of them spent a very pleasant hour outside. Chilly, blustery autumn had turned unexpectedly into an Indian Summer. It was possible to enjoy the open parkland without being buffeted by the wind. They walked all the way round the lake, admiring the reds and golds of the trees. Bryony loved the swans, and had to be dissuaded from trying to tempt one to follow her inside the Hall so that she could keep it as a pet. Lucius settled the matter when he told her that the swan and Nudge would not make good companions at all.

Jane assumed that they would end their walk in the walled garden as usual, but Lucius seemed determined to avoid entering it today. As they reached the Hall once more, he said quietly to Jane, "Send Bryony to the kitchen. The house elves can give her biscuits and a drink, and take care of her for a while. I would like to speak to you."

Lucius led Jane back outside. "Are you tired after our walk, Jane?" he asked her. "We can sit down, but I would prefer not to be overheard. We shall go to the pavilion by the lake. Hold on to my hand, and I will apparate us both there." Jane soon found herself transported swiftly by side-along apparition directly to the stone pavilion. Lucius spread out his long travelling cloak on the stone seat, and folded it over to form a padded layer, on which he invited Jane to sit. As he was still wearing the cloak, this necessitated sitting very close beside him, and being partially engulfed in the garment. Lucius tucked her arm into his, and Jane could feel the warmth of his body touching hers. He turned, and grey eyes looked into grey eyes.

"Jane," he began, "I have something to tell you, and then something to ask you. The thing I have to tell you is that Cho and I are now fully reconciled: we have spoken together frankly, and have decided that we should once more live under the same roof."

At this news, although it was not entirely surprising, Jane felt her heart sink. Unable to trust herself to reply, she merely nodded her head to indicate that she had heard and understood.

Lucius then said, "Gildenford Hall is a pleasant place, is it not?"

"Yes, I like it very much."

"You must have become in some degree attached to the house. I believe you have a good deal of affection for the place?"

"I am very attached to it."

"And I perceive that you have a great regard for my self-willed little Bryony too; and even for Madam Chang, in spite of her severe manner."

"Yes, Lucius; I love Bryony, if that is not a great presumption on my part; and I have some affection for Madam Chang, whose manner disguises a kind heart."

"And would you be sorry to part with them?"

"Yes, I would." Jane began to be fearful as to where this was leading. But she could not believe that Lucius would, or even could, sack her; for she had been appointed by Madam Chang on behalf of Cho, and this was not Lucius' house.

"A pity!" said Lucius. He paused awhile, then continued, "It is always the way of events in this life. No sooner have you settled in a pleasant resting place, than a voice calls out to you to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is expired."

"Must I leave Gildenford Hall, Lucius?" she whispered, the pain in her chest unbearable.

"Yes, Jane, I believe you must."

"Well, then I shall be ready to leave when Miss Chang decides to advise me accordingly." In spite of her unhappiness, she allowed herself a moment of defiance: it was not Lucius' place to terminate her employment.

Then she heard Lucius say, "Jane, do you love me?"

Jane's eyes widened, and she drew away from him. A small fire of rebellion burned in her wounded heart, and she replied a little sharply, "Lucius, this is a very cruel thing you ask me. You and Miss Chang now have each other again, and yet you seek to amuse yourself by eliciting my feelings. It is hard enough to see you together without this exposure." There were tears in her eyes now, but she remained straight-backed and defiant.

"That was not my aim, Jane," he said softly. "If the question was impertinent, I apologise. You do not need to answer. It is only that, dearest Jane, I love you."

Jane could not believe her ears. She stared at Lucius, and said, "But you love Miss Chang! You told me you two are now reconciled. I know I was merely a convenience while you were estranged, and a source of amusement to flatter your vanity while Miss Chang was away. You have just told me I must leave. Why do you say this to me?"

"Because it is true. I told Cho that I loved you when I admitted our relationship."

Jane looked aghast at Lucius. "You told her about us?" she said, colour draining from her face.

"Jane, I did not volunteer this information," replied Lucius gently. "She guessed. Also, Madam Chang saw far more than Cho, as did the house elves. It is very difficult to keep secrets in a house full of servants and family portraits. Cho then asked me if all was true, as she and her grandmother had deduced. What could I then say? I have always tried to be truthful with Cho, as with you. Not mentioning a thing is not the same as telling a falsehood."

Jane saw the truth of this statement. So Madam Chang's watchfulness and Lucius' honesty now spelled the end of her time here at Gildenford Hall. She decided that she must know her fate. "Does Miss Chang now plan to sack me?" she asked quietly.

"No, Jane, she does not. She does not want to lose you, for Bryony's sake. But she will understand should you decide to leave us of your own free will. I am urged to impress on you that Cho wishes you to stay here."

"Thank you. I am pleased that my work is considered satisfactory," replied Jane stiffly. "But you, on the other hand, wish that I should leave of my own accord."

"You are a very good teacher, and Bryony loves you. But Jane, that is not all I must say to you.

"I am commissioned by Cho to present you with a proposition. Ideally, we should all three be together for this, but Cho and I felt it would far too much resemble facing a committee if you had to deal with both of us. This proposition is – let us say - unusual.

"Firstly, I must tell you that I love both of you, Cho and you, Jane. Not in the same way, it is true, but nevertheless I feel that it is truly love in each case. I care deeply for both of you, and do not wish to hurt either of you. This proposal comes from Cho; I would never have thought such a thing possible, and it shows her great generosity of spirit.

"You know of course that Cho is Chinese. She told me that her great grandmother was concubine to a warlock in Imperial China. He had a wife and three concubines; her great grandmother was the number two concubine. Such things were once commonplace in China: a wealthy man would take a wife and as many concubines as his fancy and his pocket allowed. These women usually had no choice in the matter, they had to learn to live with each other, in harmony or otherwise. It was very difficult for Cho's great grandmother much of the time because the wife disliked her; but she had a friend in the number one concubine, so all was not bad.

"For modern witches things are very different. You have the free choice to stay with a man or to go. You can choose whom you love, you are not sold to the highest bidder. And it is by Cho's own free will that she asks you to be joint consort to me with her."

Jane was dumbstruck. In a few short moments she had travelled from the pain of perceived mockery and the fear of losing her employment and her present home, to an outrageous offer the like of which she had never before encountered. Such a solution would never, ever have occurred to her. Jane did not even know if she believed it was really possible to set up such a _ménage à trois_ outwith a certain type of fiction, or even how she truly felt about such an arrangement.

The impossibility of ever having Lucius had now become a very real possibility; but could she share this man with another? This way, she need not leave her beloved Bryony; but she would always be the teacher, not the mother.

But, said another voice in her head, you too may be a mother one day, and Lucius would be the child's father. The idea of bearing the child of Lucius Malfoy, and the act of creating that child, filled Jane with so many emotions that she pushed the thought away to the back of her mind, fearing that her reaction would be written across her honest face.

"We do not expect an answer immediately," continued Lucius. "Take as long to think it over as you need. We realise that the idea is outrageous and slightly shocking, and that we would all three of us be regarded askance by some respectable members of the wizarding community, who may refuse to receive us. You must make up your own mind according to your own moral code."

Jane Currer sat beside Lucius Malfoy in stunned silence, hardly able to comprehend the audacity of the proposal just presented to her.

Lucius looked down at her neat, smooth head, and wondered again if he was entirely selfish to make such an offer to this young woman, so old in some ways, and yet so innocent in others; if he was selfish to agree to this suggestion from Cho after all they had been through together. At first, he had been convinced that Cho was merely being selfless for his sake, but at last he had seen that she was sincere. She too had been a mistress once, now she was the equivalent of a wife she could afford to be generous; and she had dreamed up this essentially Chinese solution.

Lucius lifted Jane's chin gently, and kissed her on the mouth. She did not resist.


	27. Chapter 27

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 27**

A ray of spring sunlight crept around the edge of the curtain, and shone across the face of Cho Chang, waking her. Blinking up at the unfamiliar ceiling, she wondered for a few moments where she was; but it was not long before she remembered both where she was sleeping, and why she was here. She turned her head to see if her companion was also awake, but for the present he slept still, his chest rising and falling gently under the soft downy hairs. Cho admired his strong profile and the silver hair spread over his pillow, and felt a twinge between her legs as she remembered the night before when he had made love to her; at first tenderly, then urgently, so that she had bitten her pillow to prevent herself from crying out at the peak of her ecstasy. For they were guests in this house, and they wished to observe all the proprieties, and draw no unwanted attention to themselves.

Lucius Malfoy had a reputation, even here in France. He had once been a Death Eater, one of the chief followers of He Who Must Not Be Named; although now that he had been dead for some years, many wizards felt that it was finally safe to say the name Voldemort aloud. Lucius had been imprisoned in Azkaban, and there were many who had not forgotten his crimes. But others said he had changed, and was now a respectable law-abiding wizard. He was badly scarred, it was said, caused by saving his daughter from a fire: the man could not be all bad if he had risked his life for his child. Since this incident, few had seen him in public, so the severity of his injuries was a cause for speculation.

Cho knew that he would find today difficult, for he would be an object of scrutiny for many. Lucius Malfoy had once had a reputation that caused many females to deliberately place themselves in his path, and he had always taken full advantage of the delights on offer from these willing witches, until the day he promised Cho that he would try to be faithful to her. Now the females would all be staring at him to see how much his former beauty had been marred. Of course, some witches would find the reason for the scars romantic, and still see him as a desirable man; but Cho knew that Lucius would not believe that he could still be an object of lust, and he was dreading the stares and the whispers he fully expected to follow him.

But Lucius had never cared what anyone thought of his actions, and he still retained his Malfoy pure blood arrogance. He was here, and he would hold his head up high as always, and pretend all the indifference he had previously felt; for this day was not for him. Today he was here solely for his son, and he would play his part perfectly so that nothing would spoil the Beltane wedding of Draco Malfoy and Gabrielle Delacour.

Gabrielle's parents lived in an eighteenth century château in Provence, and the couple were to be married in the grounds. Monsieur and Madame Delacour had offered accommodation to some guests who might wish to stay overnight; and especially to Lucius, father of the groom, and to his consort Cho Chang, mother of Lucius' daughter Bryony, who was one of Gabrielle's bridesmaids.

Cho slipped out of bed. She had a long day ahead. She could not finally relax and enjoy the day until she had made certain that the bridal party was perfectly dressed for the Handfasting, for she was responsible for all the outfits. Each dress and suit had been designed by Cho herself, and hand stitched by Alan or one of her growing team of seamstresses. Cho knew that this was an important day in so many ways: for Draco and Gabrielle, it was their wedding day; for Lucius it was the first time he had appeared at a public event for four years; for Cho, this Handfasting was her first society wedding. The Malfoys and the Delacours were important members of the wizarding community in England and France respectively: this wedding would be featured in the wizard press of both countries and beyond. _Witch Weekly_ was devoting a whole issue to it: Cho had already been interviewed at length, and a team of photographers was expected to capture the event, the fashions, and the glory of the classically designed Provençal château. Rita Skeeter herself would be there to compose her pithy observations on the day.

* * *

The hour of the Handfasting was approaching, and the circle of witches and wizards waited patiently for the bridal party to appear. The sun shone from an azure blue sky adorned with cotton wool clouds on this first day of May, the Celtic festival of Beltane. The guests were protected from its rays, stronger here in the south of France than in England, by a canopy of gossamer threads, translucent as dragonfly wings, magically suspended overhead. At the centre of the circle stood a white limestone table, weathered with age.

The buzz of conversation quietened as faint strains of music could be heard. Guests listened attentively, and stretched their necks to see around their neighbours. Now, as they identified the instrument, they saw a single flautist walking at the head of a small procession, the bride and groom following a short distance behind, accompanied by their family and attendants. The flute played a beautiful otherworldly tune, matched perfectly by the player: for she was a Veela, with white-gold hair that caught the sun in the same way as her golden flute, her long pale blue robes floating around her in the slight breeze.

The wizards all found it hard to tear away their eyes from the Veela, but as the bride and groom approached, their attention was captured by another vision, even lovelier than the first. Gabrielle Delacour had never looked more beautiful, and the effect was due in no small part to the gown she wore. The silky white material chosen by Bryony shimmered in the sunlight, and shifting rainbow hues travelled over her body, emphasising her feminine form as she moved. The gown was like a second skin, and Gabrielle, while in reality demurely covered from throat to ankle, looked as if she was almost naked. Her long white-blonde hair was braided around her head, and then fell unbound down her back from a headdress of brilliant blue flowers, whose colour was reflected by her sparkling eyes. Her only jewellery was a pair of teardrop sapphire earrings. Gabrielle's Veela blood, her joy, her inner beauty, and the skill of her dressmaker all conspired together to make every man desire her and every woman envy her on this, her special day.

On Gabrielle's right hand side, her arm tucked into his elbow, walked Draco Malfoy, his pride in his bride evident in the way he glanced at her so frequently. His summer weight suit was of midnight blue, and cut in a manner cleverly combining period and modern fashion, so he had somewhat the appearance of an eighteenth century gentleman. This effect was emphasised by the old fashioned fine white linen dress shirt he wore underneath, his matching linen cravat loosely knotted at his neck over lacy ruffles. Pinned to his lapel he wore a blue flower to match Gabrielle's headdress.

Behind the bride and groom walked another female who also drew the attention of all the men, most of whom began to feel as if they were in a trance in the presence of so much Veela power. This was Gabrielle's older sister Fleur, who was chief bridesmaid, clad in a turquoise blue gown with a gold and white border, and white flowers in her hair. Fleur had her arm through that of a young man who had changed much since his youth, when he had been an overweight, rather dull Slytherin boy who had followed Draco Malfoy around, allowing himself to be verbally bullied and belittled in exchange for the protection and influence afforded to any friend of Severus Snape's favourite pupil. This was Vincent Crabbe, now with the imposing height to carry off the long arms, deep chest and broad shoulders he still possessed, his fat honed to muscle from his regular training sessions as a beater for the Falmouth Falcons Quidditch team. Crabbe, a more serious individual since the mysterious disappearance of his father around the time of Voldemort's death, was Draco's Best Man, and was dressed to match the bridegroom. Every so often, he patted his pocket to reassure himself that the contents were still safe.

Behind them, side by side, were two small girls wearing miniature versions of Fleur's outfit: one was Martine, a cousin of Gabrielle's, fair haired like the Delacour sisters; and the other, who drew the attention of all the witches for the contrast she made, was a beautiful child with dark hair and dark eyes. This, whispered those guests in the know, was Lucius Malfoy's daughter by the woman who was now his mistress; and there she was, walking behind the bridesmaids with Malfoy, included in the wedding party even though they were not married. There were more than a few inquisitive stares at Bryony and Cho, as well as at Lucius himself: for he had been correct when he had guessed that he would be the focus of much curiosity.

Cho would have been surprised at the remarks passing among a faction of the guests. Raised by an extended Chinese family that, perhaps due to the necessity of adapting to a new way of life when they had moved to England, readily accepted modern ideas of living, Cho was unaware how scandalised some of the elderly matrons were by her presence at this event. Most of the gainsayers were British, for Gallic attitude to such matters had always been more relaxed; but the Delacours moved in old-fashioned circles, and even some of the French guests were slightly shocked. Of course they had expected Lucius to be here, he was the father of the bridegroom, but Draco's mother was dead, so he surely ought to have come alone. It was of course well known that he had an ongoing liaison with Cho Chang – "Yes, that's right, she made all the wedding clothes" – but there was no need for him to flaunt her in the face of polite society. Cho herself obviously had no sense of propriety, or she would have declined the invitation. It was also rumoured that she had actually refused an offer of marriage from Malfoy: what sensible witch would turn down the chance to give her bastard daughter a name? And as for having the love child herself as a bridesmaid at the wedding! _Mon dieu!_ said the elderly French aunts, Gabrielle Delacour might have acquired some strange ideas in England, but her family should have insisted that she protect their good name by telling her how misguided was her over-generous invitation.

Most of these scandalised self-appointed guardians of morality were witches: the wizards in general cared less; although, for a quiet life, in the presence of their womenfolk they might pay lip service to old-fashioned morality. For the wizards were today totally under the spell of the Veela, and in the presence of those beautiful creatures their thoughts were anything but pure; more than a few also had mistresses of their own, and they grudgingly admired Malfoy's flouting the conventions by standing proudly beside the undoubtedly beautiful Cho Chang. The wizards also regarded her with curiosity, but of a much more carnal nature.

Lucius and Cho walked proudly arm in arm, side by side with Monsieur and Madame Delacour. Cho had designed for Gabrielle's mother a gown of lavender silk that flattered the older witch's still slender figure, and whose bias-cut skirt pooled in graceful swirls about her feet as she moved. She wore a small matching hat trimmed with violets at a rakish angle on her long white hair: for of course Madame Delacour was half Veela, and age had not lined her face or diminished in any way the effect she had on the wizards present.

Cho herself, blissfully ignorant of the spiteful comments circulating in the crowd, was elegant as ever in a long-sleeved amethyst silk _cheong sam_, her dark hair pinned behind her ears with violets, and falling in a silken black sheet down her back. She was finally beginning to relax, for all the clothes looked perfect. The rest of the day was now out of her hands. Beside her, Lucius walked erect, his head high. The silver headed cane he had once carried as an affectation was nowadays more than a mere accessory, for Lucius leaned on it as he walked. He had never fully recovered from the injuries he had sustained at the hand of his Dark Lord; indeed the pain worsened with every passing year. But Lucius was a master of disguise, and through sheer determination none but Cho knew what it cost him to appear to be walking normally, while in reality using both the cobra cane and herself for support. Lucius wore a suit cut to the same style and from the same cloth as Draco's, as did Monsieur Delacour. Both wizard fathers also wore the same style of shirt and cravat as the groom, and buttonholes of bright blue. Lucius alone wore an extra ornament on his second lapel: a gold brooch containing a miniature likeness of his late wife Narcissa. For she had asked to see her only son married, and knowing that he owed his life to her even as he had betrayed her love for him, he could not refuse her this one simple request. Narcissa in her turn had promised to remain silent unless addressed, for she had no desire to increase the curiosity surrounding her former husband.

The small procession reached the centre of the circle, and the bridal pair halted before the stone table as the flautist melted into the crowd. From the circle of guests stepped forward a dark haired giant of a woman, towering over those around her, dressed in robes of navy blue silk, and adorned everywhere with sparkling jewels the size of pigeons' eggs: Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy. She smiled at the couple before her, and then at the circle of guests. She placed her wand at her throat saying, "Sonorus."

"_Mesdames et Messieurs_," she said loudly and clearly in French, "On behalf of the bride's parents, I welcome you to the Château Delacour. I am honoured to have been invited to lead this Handfasting. The couple before you, Gabrielle Delacour and Draco Malfoy, are here today to bind themselves together in the sight of you all.

"Before we begin the ceremony, the circle shall be cast." Madame Maxime raised her wand, and cast a circle at the feet of the guests, with the stone table at its centre. A glowing circular line appeared, separating the onlookers from the wedding party.

"The space shall be purified."

As Madame Maxime spoke these words, four witches and four wizards stepped from amongst the watchers, each carrying a flaming brand. Cho recognised two of the witches and one wizard as members of the group from Beauxbatons who had attended the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. The eight placed themselves, alternately male and female, around the glowing circle. These Guardians of the Circle then performed a graceful figure-of-eight movement along the line, the wizards walking deosil, or clockwise, the witches walking widdershins, or anti-clockwise, until each Guardian was back in their starting place: thus was the circle ritually purified by fire. Each Guardian then conjured up a holder in which to place their torch, and each summoned their broomstick. They then stood before the flames, broomsticks in their hands, symbolically ready to guard the circle from all intruders.

"The couple shall walk the circle."

Draco held out his hand to his bride. Gabrielle took it, and together they walked once deosil around the circle, inside the wall of immovable Guardians, and then back to the stone table.

"Gabrielle, Draco, are you ready for the Handfasting?" Madame Maxime asked.

"We are," they replied in unison.

"Then make your vows. Ring bearer, first place the rings on the table."

Vincent Crabbe stepped forward, taking the wedding rings from his pocket, and stretched out his hand to place them carefully on the stone table. As he did so, two limestone hands appeared, blending into the table at the wrist. They were held outwards, palms upward. Crabbe hesitated, but Madame Maxime nodded her encouragement, and he placed one matching gold ring on each palm. He stepped backwards again to his place beside Fleur.

"Draco, place the ring on Gabrielle's finger and make your vows."

Draco carefully picked up the smaller of the two rings, fashioned from rare Welsh gold, and turning towards his beautiful bride, he slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand, and continued to hold her hand in his. The crowd collectively held its breath, for the vows were traditionally written by the couple themselves, and could vary from a straightforward declaration to a long eulogy. Their content often revealed much about the bride and groom, and the nature of the marriage.

Draco began to speak, his voice becoming clearer as he proceeded. He spoke in French the words he had practised so often, his English accent lessening as he continued: "Gabrielle Delacour, I, Draco Malfoy, pledge myself to you of my own free will. I declare before this audience that I know of no impediment to our marriage. I promise to care for you always, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. Your children shall be my children, and bear my name. I promise to care for them and love them if you are taken from me before your time.

"You are so beautiful it makes my heart ache to look at you. You are part Veela, and so I know that your beauty will remain beyond the time granted to other witches, but I tell you that it is not only for your body that I would marry you: you are also beautiful inside. You saved the life of my beloved sister Bryony at some danger to yourself. For this I am yours to command, from now until death us do part. Gabrielle, I tell you in this, the very language of love, I love you."

When Draco stopped speaking, a sigh passed through the guests. Many of the witches could no longer see the proceedings for the tears in their eyes, and many a wizard husband passed his pocket handkerchief to his wife with a wry smile. The eyes of Gabrielle herself were bright with tears, for she had not heard this speech in its entirety before. They had decided together that declarations of love were a private affair, and had agreed on a formal set of vows. Draco had added to the vows they had practised together, and she felt overwhelmed that he loved her so much he had prepared these extra words in a second language.

Her slight daze was broken by Madame Maxime saying, "Gabrielle, place the ring on Draco's finger and make your vows."

Gabrielle took the second wedding ring and placed it on her groom's finger. She took his hand in both hers, and staring deeply into his grey eyes, she spoke: "Draco Malfoy, I, Gabrielle Delacour, pledge myself to you of my own free will. I declare before this audience that I know of no impediment to our marriage. I promise to care for you always, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. My children shall be your children, and bear your name. I promise that they shall be taught to honour and love their father if you are taken from me before your time."

Gabrielle took a deep breath and continued, "Draco, your words just now moved me beyond anything you can imagine. I am part Veela. Unless I am torn away untimely from this world, I shall outlive you in this mortal form you see before you. I will always remain at your side, for your life is as dear to me as my own. If you should die before your time, I will honour your father in your place; and I will always look to the happiness and safety of your sister Bryony, for she has a special place in my heart, both as your sister and as her own sweet self. Draco, I love you with my head, I love you with my heart, I love you with my body."

The two lovers stood looking at each other as if there was nobody else in the world. They were brought back to reality by Madame Maxime, who, with some tears in her own eyes, asked them, "Do you now agree that your hands should be bound together for the rest of today?"

"We do."

"First you must sign your names. Step forward the witnesses."

Madame Maxime placed upon the table, whose stone hands had now disappeared, a large roll of parchment adorned with the devices of the Malfoys on the right and the Delacours on the left. In Latin it declared the marriage of Draco Malfoy, bachelor, of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England and Gabrielle Delacour, spinster, of Château Delacour, Provence, France. Each signed their name in turn with the peacock feather quill handed to them by Madame Maxime. Then followed the signatures of the two witnesses, Vincent Crabbe and Fleur Delacour.

"Now, Draco and Gabrielle, join your hands. Step forward, the binders."

Draco and Gabrielle stood close beside each other, and each took the other's hands, right palm to right palm and left to left, interlocking their fingers, thus making the symbol of infinity. Vincent Crabbe was the first binder. He tied their right wrists together loosely with a red cord. Fleur tied their left wrists in the same way with a second red cord. The two small bridesmaids came next, and the couple had to crouch down to allow the children to place their cords. Bryony had spent many hours practising tying knots so that she should be able to do this task, and her proud parents smiled at each other when she succeeded in tying her band unaided around the couple's right wrists. Gabrielle kissed her on the cheek and smiled at her as she whispered, "Well done, _ma petite_." Martine, two years older than Bryony, was similarly successful with her red band around their left wrists, and also received a kiss from the bride.

Next it was the turn of their parents, and the bride and groom stood once more. Prior to the wedding, Cho had been uncertain of her role, for she was not Draco's mother, and she knew of his previous animosity towards her; although he had been perfectly civil to both her and Alan during all the measuring and fitting for his wedding suit. Cho had sent Lucius to ask Draco what he required of her during the ceremony. She would have been happy to remain amongst the circle of onlookers if he wished. She

had already been assured of an invitation to the Handfasting from Gabrielle, but she had no wish to be the cause of discord on their big day. To her surprise, Draco had said that he was happy for her to stand in place of his mother, as long as Narcissa agreed. So Draco and Cho had both independently consulted Narcissa's last portrait, and the late Mrs Malfoy had been quite agreeable, only asking that they send Lucius to her, for she had a request to make of him.

So now Lucius Malfoy bound the right hands of his son and new daughter-in-law, from whom he too received a kiss of thanks. Draco looked at his mother's miniature portrait in surprise, for Narcissa had sworn Lucius to secrecy. Her normally sardonic gaze had softened, and her eyes were full of tears. She smiled at her son, but said nothing, as promised. Gabrielle was delighted to see Narcissa, and began to greet her, but Lucius smiled gently, and, placing a vertical index finger over his lips, stepped backwards to allow Cho to come forward and place a third band around their left wrists. Monsieur and Madame Delacour followed suit, Monsieur binding their right and Madame their left wrists.

"Now, the couple will jump the broomstick!" announced Madame Maxime, smiling.

One of the Guardians of the Circle stepped forward with his broomstick, and came to stand in front of the newly bound couple. He crouched down, holding out the broomstick horizontally a few inches above the ground. Draco and Gabrielle, tied together both by wizarding law and literally by their wrists, must now co-operate for the rest of the day, for of necessity they must perform every action together. Their first task was to jump the broomstick without touching it, for ancient custom decreed that the marriage was invalid if the couple should touch the broom in any way.

Their first task was to kilt up Gabrielle's long skirts so that they should not catch on the broom as they jumped. The couple's attempts to do this were a source of much amusement for the guests. "Is it permitted to help them?" asked Cho uncertainly, murmuring in Lucius' ear, for most of the weddings she had attended had been according to Chinese tradition, which was different.

"Strictly speaking, it is permitted, as long as you do not touch either of them," replied Lucius. "But of course, the wedding ceremony is also for the guests, and they think it is only fair that they should be entertained a little. Wait. Magic is permitted, so there is no reason why they should not succeed without you. Only the actual jump must be done without magic."

Indeed, after struggling for a while, Gabrielle cast a spell on her skirts, which tucked themselves up so that her shapely legs were now visible. The couple approached the broomstick, conferred, took a deep breath, counted to three, and then leaped together, clearing the broom with plenty of room to spare. The crowd cheered and clapped. Gabrielle reversed the spell, and her skirts fell to her ankles once more in a swirl of shifting rainbow hues as she and Draco embraced . The Guardian stood once more, and resumed his position guarding the circle, his broomstick again brandished before him.

"Now that Draco and Gabrielle are truly married according to wizard custom, there follows the Ceremony of the Wine and Cakes," said Madame Maxime, raising her voice above the cheers. She waved her wand, and there appeared on the table a decanter of wine and a goblet, and a plate of honey cakes. "They will take their first food and drink together as a handfasted couple."

Fleur stepped forward, and poured out a goblet of wine. This she picked up, and offered to the bound couple. The red bands around their wrists were loosely tied, and it was possible for Draco and Gabrielle to turn their hands so that each was at right angles to the other's. "Ladies first," said Draco gallantly. Fleur placed the goblet in Gabrielle's right hand, which she raised to her lips, taking a sip of the local red wine. Unable to wipe her own mouth, her lips remained shiny with the red liquid, and Draco kissed his wife to ensure that no wine ran down her chin to stain the wonderful wedding dress. Gabrielle now offered the goblet to Draco, tipping the container so that he could also take a sip. As her aim was slightly untrue, wine spilled down his face, and she licked it away, also ending with a kiss. Fleur took back the goblet, and offered the plate of honey cakes.

This time it was Draco who picked up a cake, but instead of eating it, he fed it to Gabrielle, who bit off a morsel at a time. The cake made one's mouth dry, so it was necessary to ask Fleur for more wine; and so it went on until each had eaten one small cake and drunk sufficient wine to ease its consumption. In spite of the couple's eagerness to lick each other's faces, they still had cake crumbs around their mouths, and their lips were stained with red wine. Madame Maxime smiled indulgently at them, waved her wand and uttered a quiet "Scourgify."

She then announced that the Handfasting ceremony was over, and the bride and groom would progress to another part of the garden, where the wedding banquet would be served. Everyone was invited to follow the wedding party once they had all left the circle.

"The fires shall be extinguished."

Obediently, the Guardians of the Circle put out the flaming torches with a brief extinguishing spell. Then they all declaimed in unison, "Evanesco," and the torches and their stands vanished.

"The broomstick arch shall be formed."

The Guardians of the Circle lined up, witches opposite wizards, and were joined by more people from the front row of guests, lengthening the two lines. All raised their brooms to form a high broomstick arch that led from the centre of the circle to its edge. Laughing together, and moving a little awkwardly due to their bound hands, Draco and Gabrielle walked under the arch and left the circle. Waiting for them was the Veela flautist, who walked ahead of them playing a well known love theme as they crossed the garden. All those who had formed the arch then rejoined the circle of guests.

Madame Maxime used her wand to vanish the glowing circle, pointed her wand at her throat and said, "Quietus." She then followed the handfasted couple out of the circle. Fleur and Crabbe fell into place behind her, followed by the two small bridesmaids. Next came Monsieur Delacour, the father of the bride, escorting Cho Chang, and lastly Lucius Malfoy, father of the groom, who gravely offered his arm to Madame Delacour. Behind them came the Guardians of the Circle, paired up as for the broomstick arch, and next the other witches and wizards who had made up the arch. When they had all proceeded beyond the site of the circle, the other guests fell in behind, and walked through the beautiful grounds of the Château Delacour to the large lawn on which stood a number of long tables set ready for the banquet.


	28. Chapter 28

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 28**

There was no formal seating plan for the banquet, except for the top table reserved for the wedding party, so everyone was free to sit with their family or friends. Once all were seated, food magically appeared on the tables. There was a selection of delicious French and British dishes, and everyone was able to find something to their taste. House elves circulated amongst the tables offering red and white wine, pumpkin juice and spring water.

At the top table sat the wedding party: in the centre the handfasted bride and groom, flanked by their parents: Monsieur Delacour on Gabrielle's left, with Cho Chang beside him, and Madame Delacour on Draco's right, with Lucius Malfoy beside her. Bryony was sitting beside Cho, enabling her to make sure that her daughter did not spoil her bridesmaid's dress, and Martine beside Lucius, with Fleur on her other side, similarly able to keep an eye on her young cousin. Vincent Crabbe was beside Fleur at the end of the table. At the other end, dwarfing the rather awestruck Bryony, was Madame Maxime. However, the half-giant woman was not a headmistress for nothing, and had learned over the years to put nervous children at their ease, and so she chatted in a kindly manner in her French-accented English to Bryony, who soon lost her fear, and dared to ask Madame Maxime if all French school teachers were so tall.

The food on the tables was demolished rapidly, with fresh dishes appearing as each was eaten, progressing gradually via a wonderful selection of English and French cheeses to a choice of desserts that would satisfy even the witch with the sweetest tooth, or fresh fruit for those who preferred it. The only two who could not fully enjoy their own wedding banquet were Draco and Gabrielle, still bound together at the wrists. They laughingly fed each other morsels, but their giggles and excitement meant that they ate little of the food they presented to each other. They deliberately offered each other wine for the pleasure of licking the spills from the other's face. Lucius watched Draco with quiet amusement, and was sure his son would far rather be elsewhere alone with his bride. He himself, in the presence of three Veela women and Cho, whose dark beauty provided such a contrast to the fair French witches, could feel his own manhood stirring, and was grateful for the cover offered by the linen tablecloth.

When everyone had eaten, Vincent Crabbe stood to read out the messages from well-wishers and those unable to attend. Just as the banquet was finishing, the house elves had conjured up a series of perches behind Crabbe's chair, and these were now filled with an assortment of owls, some of whom were glaring at the others.

One message was from Hermione Granger: she had been invited, but Gabrielle had not been surprised when she declined with an invented excuse. Lucius noted that Crabbe had been given Miss Granger's parchment by a very fine sooty owl. It was Narcissa's own favourite Hibou, sent by Lucius at his late wife's insistence to Miss Granger, in acknowledgment of Crookshanks' perceptiveness. Hermione had been assured by Gabrielle that Bryony's possessor had been destroyed, and her acceptance of the Malfoys' gift was a pledge of her permanent silence on the matter.

After a toast to the bride and groom, the couple stood, and people began to mingle. The handfasted pair tried to speak to everyone they could, while guests searched out people they generally only met at such gatherings in order to exchange a few words.

Cho did not know many people at the wedding. Among the few English guests she recognised a number of ex Slytherins, including Gregory Goyle, whom she had never liked. There was also Severus Snape, but Cho had always been in awe of him at school, and now felt little inclination to approach him, knowing his dislike of social chit-chat. Most of the people were French, and of these she only knew the Delacour sisters, Madame Maxime, and the three ex pupils from Beauxbatons who been Guardians of the Circle. Monsieur and Madame Delacour, whom she had found very friendly, were busy circulating amongst their guests. Lucius had a wide circle of French acquaintances, primarily through Narcissa, and was busy chatting to an old friend from Cap Ferrat. Bryony and Martine were laughing with a group of other small children, watched over by two of the Delacour house elves. Cho therefore momentarily found herself alone. She was about to greet her Beauxbatons wizard acquaintance, ready to discover if he was still as knowledgeable about Quidditch, when she realised she was the object of interest for a group of older witches, who kept throwing rather obvious glances in her direction. Not sure what to do, she tried approaching the group with a friendly smile, but all five women pointedly turned their backs on her and continued their discussion, their voices deliberately just loud enough to enable Cho to hear what they said.

"Yes, that's her, the brazen hussy."

"Fancy having the groom's illegitimate sister as a bridesmaid. Narcissa Malfoy must be turning in her grave! And they say the Chang girl was Lucius' mistress before she died…"

"No, really?"

"Yes, the child was born almost nine months to the day after dear Narcissa died. If she wasn't his mistress while Narcissa was alive, Lucius didn't waste much time in finding someone new to warm his bed…"

"But you know Lucius' reputation. He always had more than one woman on the go at the same time."

"Well, yes, but he never admitted to fathering any bastards before this one. He asked her to marry him, you know. But she'd rather live as his mistress. I think it's appalling that we're expected to accept her in polite society."

"That's right. Who is she after all? Just a Chinese dressmaker. Seamstresses are two a penny anywhere…"

Cho was at first so shocked that she remained rooted to the spot. She began to realise that she had lived a somewhat sheltered life, and that perhaps she had been very lucky indeed not to have come across this attitude before, except during the brief period when her affair with Lucius had first become common knowledge. Her extended Chinese family had always accepted her choices in life, and also had their own history with a very different moral code influencing their way of thinking. Cho's problems in the past with public opinion over her relationship with Lucius had mainly been because of his Death Eater past rather than her own behaviour.

She decided to make herself ignore these witches, hold her head high, and walk away to find a friend to talk to. Her eyes were filled with tears of hurt and helpless rage, and she could not really see where she was going. She nearly collided with a tall wizard in front of her, who put his hand gently on her waist and spoke to her: "Cho, what's wrong?"

It was Lucius. She almost put her head on his shoulder and howled; but no, this was Draco and Gabrielle's wedding day: she would not let her troubles mar the celebration. She tried not to sniff in front of him, but she could not hide her tears. In vain, she searched blindly for a handkerchief. Lucius saw her distress, and producing his own monogrammed white lawn handkerchief, he told her not to move while he dabbed her eyes carefully. Cho stood very still, for Lucius was taking every care not to smudge her eye make-up. Eventually, he pronounced her "done", and as he put the mascara stained handkerchief back in his pocket, he said, "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Cho bit her lip uncertainly, and her eyes glanced in the direction of the group of spiteful witches. Lucius followed her gaze. He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. "I think I know those women," he said. "In fact," he glanced down at his lapel, "Narcissa, you know them don't you?" Lucius turned so that her miniature portrait was facing the group of witches.

"Yes, I know them," replied Narcissa. "I used to call them Bitch Witches United. Cho, tell me what they said."

A few minutes later, after depositing Cho with her Quidditch-loving acquaintance from Beauxbatons, Lucius Malfoy strolled apparently nonchalantly over to the five older witches. He smiled at them charmingly. "Good afternoon, ladies," he said, in a smooth tone that would have aroused suspicion in anyone who knew him well. "I believe we were introduced in London? How nice to see you again. Are you enjoying the day?"

The witches seemed tongue-tied, yet managed enough words to convey that they were indeed enjoying the wedding. Lucius smiled even more sweetly at the group, well aware that nowadays his scarred face made his once friendly smiles appear quite sinister. "My wife says she remembers you," he purred.

The witches were confused. Some of them thought he must mean Cho. His **wife**? The man was shameless, everyone knew they were not married. Then they saw the small brooch that Lucius had contrived to keep temporarily hidden under his long silver hair. Narcissa Malfoy smiled at them even more sweetly than her former husband.

"Good afternoon," said Narcissa, "How lovely to meet you all here. I believe only the closest friends and the family of the happy couple are here just now. You are all **so** lucky to have been invited; I wonder how it was contrived? Let's see, who do you know here? Ah, Madam Sharpe, I believe you were once intimately acquainted with Monsieur de Langue over there? But I understand Mr Sharpe is unaware of your friendship? Oh, and Madam Blether, your daughter is so pretty, and do you know, it's such a coincidence, but she reminds me so much of Mr O'Toole's daughter, they might be twins."

The five witches began to look very uncomfortable. Madam Sharpe was looking around anxiously, and Madam Blether had a face like a thundercloud.

"Looking for your husband, Madam Sharpe?" asked Narcissa in a voice of deep concern. "Would you like Lucius to fetch him? Perhaps he could fetch Monsieur de Langue also, and introduce them to each other? I am sure they would be surprised how much they have in common.

"Now ladies," she continued, in a light voice with an undertone of steel, "I understand there was a suggestion from one of you that something has occurred to cause me to turn in my grave?" She gave a light laugh. "Ladies, I will let you into a secret. I have indeed been turning in my grave, it is true. It happens every time I meet a witch who moralises on the lives of others whilst knowing that her own affairs would not bear the slightest public scrutiny. You know the kind of woman I mean? Why, some of them presume to decide who should be received in polite company and who should be shunned. There are even witches who think that Lucius' consort Miss Chang has no place at this wedding. You may look shocked! I could not believe it myself. They think that an honourable man should not acknowledge his own flesh and blood, and that my son was unwise to allow his bride to ask his dear little sister to be her bridesmaid. Can you credit the small mindedness of such witches?

"Lucius and Miss Chang suit each other very well. I should know, I have seen their relationship from the very beginning. Miss Chang is from a very respectable, rich and well connected Chinese wizarding family: you do know of course that the Changs control the world price of jade? Of course you do. Who could forget such a thing?

"It has been so lovely to speak to you again after so many years. I would have recognised you anywhere even though you are all so much older than when we last met. Now, we must go. Lucius is the groom's father after all, and he must be seen to circulate. _Au revoir_, ladies."

When they were out of earshot of the spiteful five, standing now in stunned silence staring after Lucius, he said, "Narcissa my dear, you were magnificent. And thank you for those words about Cho."

"I meant it Lucius," she replied simply. "If I cannot have you myself, Cho Chang is the best partner for you.

"Lucius, why don't you marry her?"


	29. Chapter 29

**The Eye Of The Gazer **

**Chapter 29**

Cho sat in one of the armchairs in the well appointed bedroom she and Lucius were sharing at the Château Delacour. It was the lull in between the wedding banquet and the evening party. Many friends of both the bride and groom who had not been invited to the wedding itself would come to the château for the dance, while some of the older wedding guests had already departed after a tiring day. Now was a chance for everyone attending both parts of the day to relax a little: take a nap, read, sit quietly on a garden seat and admire the grounds, ask the house elves for a cool refreshing drink or a calming tisane; or make love.

Cho's head was resting on the back of the chair, and she was gazing out of the window at the spacious park surrounding the château. Lucius, in shirt sleeves, his cravat discarded and Narcissa safely put away in the adjoining dressing room, approached Cho from behind, and slid his arms over her shoulders, cupping a silky breast in each hand. Cho looked up, giving him an upside-down smile. He bent over and kissed her, but although she responded to him, he felt she was holding something back. When their lips parted, Lucius looked at Cho carefully. It was too difficult to read her expression from this angle, so he removed his hands, and walked around Cho so that he was facing her. Lucius stood, arms folded, his back to the window, and examined his consort's face minutely.

"There is something wrong," he said. It was not a question. Cho did not reply. "Tell me," he commanded. She still remained silent, but a small sigh escaped from her. "Cho, I can't help you if you refuse to speak to me. Was it the Bitch Witches? I told you, Narcissa dealt with them. Nobody cares what they think."

Cho raised her dark eyes to his. "I wish that were true, Lucius. You know that there are always people willing to listen to women like them."

"Cho, why do you care? We both have enough money not to bother about public opinion. You refused to marry me when I asked you many years ago, yet we lived together openly. Cho's Chic is a successful business. Your couture is so popular that you have customers queuing for your services."

"Lucius, haven't we forgotten someone? What about Jane?"

"Jane?" Lucius looked searchingly at Cho. "What do you mean? Are you beginning to regret your offer to her? I warned you that we could be shunned by polite society. You insisted that the Chinese managed these matters in a more practical way. I wanted to gave you time to reconsider. You told me to ask Jane immediately. You have had months to become accustomed to the idea. Now we are almost on the eve of finally carrying through what we planned, and you are the one having second thoughts?

" 'What about Jane?' indeed! How do you think she will feel if you tell her you have changed your mind? And," he added cruelly, "Are you so sure that if I have to choose only one of you, it will still be you?"

Lucius was feeling angry. He knew Cho's idea had been a daring suggestion, but he had believed she was sincere. Jane had been so uncertain. She had wavered for months; one moment hardly able to believe her luck, that she could actually belong to Lucius Malfoy, and the next moment saying no, she must leave, the whole suggestion was so unconventional, she was sorry she was not braver, but she felt uncomfortable at the idea. Even after speaking to Cho on the matter, and being reassured that it was what Cho really wanted, Jane had been unsure. Lucius had been the one, at Cho's urging, who had finally convinced her to accept the plan. But, said Jane, they must wait until after Draco and Gabrielle's wedding. She did not want any hint of a scandal to spoil their day.

The recently married couple had changed their plans some months ago, once they realised that Cho and Lucius were reconciled, for they had deduced that Cho would eventually return to Malfoy Manor. "An 'ouse cannot 'ave two mistresses," said Gabrielle firmly, little guessing the irony of her words. "Draco and I, we will not live at ze Manor, we will find an 'ouse of our own nearby. Also, maybe we will spend more time in France." Lucius had instead offered to build them a house of their own in the grounds. "There is, after all, plenty of space for more than one house on our land."

Now, at the furious expression on Lucius' face, Cho shrank from him slightly. When she spoke, it was obvious that she was keeping her voice steady with an effort. "Lucius, please believe me when I say that I am thinking of Jane now. I am sorry, I was foolish to propose such a plan without thinking it through. What you said just now – you said that you and I both have enough money not to care about public opinion. You are right. But Jane is poor. You know as well as I that reputation and a good name are much more important when a person is not rich; indeed they are often all that a poor person has. I have just been faced with a group of witches who criticised my morality. And how did Narcissa deal with them? By reminding them that the Changs are a very rich and influential family. She could not have said as much to defend Jane. It is lucky that Narcissa also knew that those five witches are in fact hypocrites who say one thing and do another. But not everyone who believes our morality is questionable will themselves be open to such criticism.

"Lucius, I think I must tell Jane what occurred here today, and let her decide."

Lucius Malfoy's eyes had clouded over. Any amorous thoughts he had been entertaining, following a day spent in the company of Veela, had been driven away by this conversation with Cho. His nostrils flared, and he stood unmoving before the window, dark against the bright afternoon, staring at her. His cold words cut through Cho like a knife:

"Cho, do you know what you have done? You have given false hope to a young and innocent girl. Jane is not a fool. She has spent months deciding whether to follow her heart or her head. At your behest, and against her better judgement, I finally persuaded her to follow her heart. Now you are planning to present Jane with this obstacle, and you will pretend it is a new thing, something you could not have foreseen. We all foresaw it, you included. Cho, look into your own heart. Those witches hurt you today. You claimed you would not care for public opinion, but when they spoke their minds in front of your face, you found you did care. You are using Jane as an excuse, using her pain to mask your own, and to mask your guilt at being the one of the three of us who instigated this idea. Now you want to be free of it all, but you are not even brave enough to admit this to me, much less to poor Jane. Cho, you are being dishonest, and I am sadly disappointed in you.

"When you tell Jane, you know she will leave. She will know that you have thought better of your plan; that although you might have believed for a fleeting moment that you were a traditional Chinese witch, in reality you are not your great grandmother, but you are a modern woman with the values of today.

"And you must be the one to tell her, because I will not. You have used me to bring Jane to your way of thinking. I love Jane, and I will not be the one who finally shatters her impossible dream."

Lucius then turned on his heel, and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

* * *

Three people, caught in a love triangle: which of them is the most unhappy?

Cho Chang has spoken to Jane Currer. She has realised that Lucius was right when he spoke those harsh words to her in France, ruining for her the rest of that already marred day. Cho has tried to be selfless and noble, believing that she could learn to share Lucius, for she knows that he genuinely loves Jane: thinking that such an arrangement was far more honest than his marriage to Narcissa, to whom he had never been faithful. But now she knows she was fooling herself; it is not in her nature to share without jealousy. Although she would at first seem happy, it would not be long before the resentment began to show: she would start to hate Jane's constant presence, to wish her gone. She was not raised to expect a relationship of this sort. The Bitch Witches were the catalyst, not the cause, of this change of heart: this concern for the opinion of others has always been there. Cho chose for these past few months of unreality to ignore it, and allowed her arrogance to lead Jane to expect what Cho cannot give.

Jane has heard Cho's story. Now she sits in her room at Gildenford Hall, silent tears running down her cheeks. For Cho has related to her the words of the cruel witches, and how Narcissa rebuked them with her own brand of vitriol. Cho has said she is concerned for Jane: how would she react if the same thing were to happen to her? But Jane sees through the half truths, the prevarication. She knows that her first instinct was right, that Cho does not really wish to share Lucius, that she had suggested they should be joint consorts because she believed it would please Lucius; but she had not fully considered her own true feelings. Cho's recounting of the event is a coded message that she has changed her mind. Jane will not stay where she is not welcome. It only remains to decide when she will leave.

Jane has a secret she has not told anyone. She ponders whether she should share this, or keep it in her heart. There are reasons to tell, and reasons not to.

Lucius lives alone now in Malfoy Manor once more. His son and new daughter-in-law are on their honeymoon in Venice, lodging in Signor Stregone's spacious Lido residence. Lucius spends a great deal of time sitting in his study. Although he still enjoys a glass of whisky, these days he avoids excess, and his mind remains clear. He ponders the two women he loves, and knows he must choose. He has threatened Cho with a cold warning that he might choose Jane. He thinks this over. He loves Jane, and he believes the love is real. But he has experience enough to know that this is still the excitement of the new; the first flush of lust, and of forbidden fruit: the governess, the virgin, the lure of youthful flesh.

Would he tire of her if he stayed with her? She is learning from him, willingly and eagerly. But she is very young, younger even than Gabrielle. There is time enough for her to find a mate of her own generation. She should not have to put up with the varying moods of a middle aged wizard with a dubious past.

Lucius smiles to himself wryly. Why is he even contemplating a choice? There is no choice. There is only Cho. He was angry with her in France, but she did not deserve his censure. It was for him that she was prepared to make the sacrifice: to share him with another woman, even though the sight of it would kill her softly with each successive day. He has loved Cho for so long now, yet he has already experienced three empty years without her. He cannot imagine life without his daughter, a reminder each time he looks at her of her mother's beauty. He lost Cho once before: he cannot lose her again.

But he is not yet ready to tell Cho of his decision. Part of him wants to punish her because of what she has done to Jane. Part of him knows he should not feel this way, but if he goes to her now, he will use more bitter words against her: his barbed tongue will wound as much as a physical weapon. He must wait until he is calmer.

Jane decides to leave immediately without divulging her secret; without saying goodbye to Lucius. She tells Madam Chang, who does not ask why she is leaving, but wishes her well, and says she will provide a testimonial for any future employer. She offers to help Jane find another position; but then she pauses significantly for a moment, and asks her, what will she do in a few months' time? She gives Jane a promissory note for Gringotts Bank, and Jane looks astonished when she sees the sum written on the parchment. It is too much, she protests, I am not owed so much. Madam Chang looks at Jane steadily, and Jane then realises that one person at least has guessed her secret.

Jane pauses a moment, considering. She then kisses Madam Chang once on each soft cheek, and smiles into those wise all-knowing dark eyes. She folds the note and tucks it into her pocket, and as she does so, unconsciously places a protective hand on her belly.

What of Neville, who also loves Jane? He, the tender of living things, has seen Jane walking in the garden together with Lucius Malfoy; has seen the way they recently strolled so close beside each other, seemingly careless of prying eyes; has seen them kissing, totally absorbed in each other. He has not guessed the extent of their intimacy, but if he had been told, it would not have surprised him. He knows he has lost Jane. He has asked himself if he would still wish to marry Jane when Malfoy tires of her, as he is sure to do. But Neville has a long memory, of a battle in the Ministry of Magic, when Malfoy the Death Eater would happily have killed him. The hurt that he feels, knowing that sweet Jane Currer has been seduced so completely by this man, cannot be eradicated even by imagining her in his arms responding to his own eager kisses. Neville could not bear to be forever compared as a lover to this man, his former enemy. He wishes Jane well, but he knows that she will never be part of his future.

Bryony Chang greets Jane Currer eagerly, her white cat at her heels. When Jane tells her she is to leave early on the morrow, Bryony is distraught. She cries, she pleads, she demands to know why; she asks in a small voice, is it because she disobeyed Miss Currer last week? Jane replies in her sweet, quiet voice that it is not Bryony's fault, she will always love Bryony, but something has happened to change everything, and she must go. She is immovable in her resolve, while simultaneously unable to stem her own tears. The governess and the child cry in each other's arms, and for both of them the rest of the day is spent in complete misery.

The magical photos of Draco and Gabrielle's wedding, that Bryony was so looking forward to admiring with Miss Currer, lie discarded on the table. The happy couple walking the circle form a sharp contrast to the present atmosphere in the classroom: at one side of the room a smiling child binds the hands of her brother and his wife, while in the other half she weeps as if her vulnerable young heart will break.

When Cho comes home from work, Bryony, fresh tears starting in her eyes, asks her mother why Miss Currer must leave. Racked with guilt, Cho is as evasive as Jane. She tries to console her child with a bedtime story, but Bryony barely listens, and instead cries herself to sleep. When early the next day she goes to find the governess to say her final goodbye, she finds that Jane has already departed: she rose with the house elves, and slipped away unremarked via the floo network.

Nanny makes Bryony her favourite breakfast, but her charge is inconsolable.

* * *

A week later, Lucius apparates in Cho's apartments. He sees the sorrow on her face for her daughter. He knows himself how upset Bryony is, for he has been to see her daily. He takes Cho in his arms, and wraps her tightly in his embrace. He feels a swelling in his groin as he kisses her deeply and lingeringly.

"It is just the two of us once more, Cho. This is how it should be. We both know it. I lost you once, and I never want to let you go again. I love you. This time, I want you to marry me. We can have a large ceremony with all your family, or a quiet Handfasting before two witnesses, just as you prefer. This time I will not accept your refusal."

He releases her, and bends before her on one knee, his movements less fluid than the younger man who first seduced Cho. He takes both her hands firmly in his. He asks her, "Will you be my wife?"

Cho smiles for the first time in many days. She cannot speak, but she nods her head, tears in her eyes.

Lucius stands, lifts her, and carries her into the bedroom.

_The End_

* * *

**Acknowledgements**

_Most true is it that "beauty is in the eye of the gazer." – Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre

As many readers will have spotted, there are heavy influences in this story from _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Brontë (1816-1855), including the quotation forming the title.

The original character **Jane Currer** is named after **Jane** Eyre and **Currer** Bell. Charlotte Brontë and her sisters Emily and Anne originally wrote under the male pseudonyms of Currer Bell, Ellis Bell and Acton Bell respectively. Even Charlotte's publisher, George Smith, did not initially know that she was a woman.

The character of Jane Eyre is believed to have been based on Charlotte herself: Charlotte worked as a governess, and was small and plain in appearance. She was painfully self-conscious of her lack of beauty. She needed glasses because she was very short-sighted, but often did not wear them because they were so unflattering (no designer frames available in Charlotte's day).

Charlotte and Emily both taught English at the Pensionnat Héger in Brussels, Belgium, where they worked to pay for lessons in French, as the three sisters planned to open a school at their home in Haworth, Yorkshire, England. They chose Belgium because it was well known at that time as a place where one could live frugally – as the daughters of a poorly paid curate, economy was essential. Brussels had its own community of expatriate British who had moved there to take advantage of the low cost of living. Jane Currer, like Charlotte, is English, but lived in Belgium for a time.

Lucius' temporary addiction to drink and laudanum echoes Charlotte's brother Branwell's addictions. The family home at the Parsonage in Haworth was only a short step away from Branwell's favourite pub, The Black Bull. Whereas the Brontë sisters eventually achieved literary success, their only brother, who initially had hopes of being an artist, became a drunkard, and his most famous works are the portraits of his sisters. Laudanum is 45 strength alcohol with the addition of opium. Users therefore had symptoms from the alcohol as well as the opium.

**Some of the references below to events in _Jane Eyre_ contain spoilers for anyone who has not read the book.**

In the book, Jane Eyre is appointed as governess to the illegitimate daughter Adèle of her employer, Mr Edward Rochester of Thornfield Hall. She falls in love with him even though he is not conventionally handsome, and is much older than she is (the age difference is less than that between Lucius and Jane Currer: Rochester is "near 40" and Jane Eyre is only 18). Rochester has much experience of women (in a nineteenth century Victorian novel, we are not told any details!) whereas Jane Eyre is an innocent girl who has just left the school where firstly she was educated, then became a teacher. However, in spite of her youth, Jane is not afraid to speak up for herself to her employer, and she has very definite opinions.

Edward Rochester is apparently single at the beginning of the book, so there is seemingly no barrier to the mutual attraction between him and Jane. Eventually, it is revealed that he is in fact married already, just as Lucius has an existing partner. Charlotte herself also fell in love with a married man – Monsieur Héger of the Pensionnat Héger. The attraction in this case appears to have been totally one-sided. Charlotte's love letters from England were intercepted by Madame Héger, who stopped the correspondence.

There are two fires at Thornfield Hall in _Jane Eyre_. The first occurs when Mr Rochester's bed has been set on fire, and at the end of the book, Thornfield Hall burns down. Rochester is hurt and blinded in this last fire. Jane marries him in spite of his injuries: the final chapter begins with the famous line, "Reader, I married him." In my story, Lucius is scarred in the fire at Malfoy Manor, and Jane Currer finds his injuries unimportant.

Some scenes in _The Eye of the Gazer_ are adapted from scenes in _Jane Eyre_, and contain passages taken from the novel. These are:

The conversation between Jane and Lucius in the stone pavilion in Chapter 2 is partly based on the conversation between Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester in Chapter 14 of _Jane Eyre_.

Chapter 4, where Lucius reads Jane's palm is based on Chapter 19 of _Jane Eyre_, where Mr Rochester disguises himself as a gypsy fortune teller.

Jane's speech in Chapter 4, "Do you think I am a machine without feelings…" is based on Jane's speech in Chapter 23 of _Jane Eyre_, where Jane believes Mr Rochester is about to marry the beautiful Miss Ingram.

In Chapters 14 & 15, Jane hearing Lucius cry out her name is based on Chapter 35 of _Jane Eyre_. Jane Eyre is staying with St John Rivers and his sisters. St John asks Jane to marry him and accompany him to India as a missionary, then Jane "magically" hears Rochester calling out to her. Neville stands in a similar position to St John Rivers in my story; but Neville really loves Jane, whereas St John only wants a wife as a companion and fellow teacher.

Lucius' unusual "proposal" in Chapter 26 is based on Rochester's marriage proposal to Jane in Chapter 23 of _Jane Eyre_. Like Lucius, Rochester teases Jane rather cruelly, and makes her think that she must leave Thornfield Hall.

The story of Cho Chang's great grandmother is based on that of Jung Chang's grandmother in her autobiography _Wild Swans_.

I would also like to acknowledge the invaluable help offered to all Harry Potter fan fiction writers by that wonderful online encyclopedia of the Potter universe, _The Harry Potter Lexicon_.

Finally, thank you to all the readers who have come along with me for the ride. This story started out as a small tale based on _Jane Eyre_, and grew into something much more when Voldemort decided to stage his last reappearance. I thank everyone who has left reviews here and elsewhere, and those who have offered me their encouragement to continue.

Servalan xx


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